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notnctu · 4 years

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through the lens ❀ l.jn

❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.

❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞

❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy

Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy.

Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever.

It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now.

The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.

He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.

Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.

The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.

“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly.

“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.

Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft.

“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic.

Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at.

“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful.

Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”

“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man.

The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises.

The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely.

“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.

Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.”

Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.”

“That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated.

Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”

Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not.

Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.

He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.

As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.

“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”

Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”

“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him.

“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed.

“Why do you take nude photography?”

Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.”

Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills.

Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.”

Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”

“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”

His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.”

His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.

He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.

You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.

“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.

He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.

Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.

“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.

Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”

“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.

Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you.

Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.

There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.

He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.

“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly.

A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”

“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male.

You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.

You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.”

Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”

“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.

Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”

“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.”

“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.

Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.”

Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them.

“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.

Monday, 3:03 PM.

Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness.

There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin.

“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly.

Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.

“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s.

“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.

Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”

He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight.

“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.

For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.

“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down.

You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”

Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears.

Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.

There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.

This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece.

Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.

“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you.

Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away.

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.

“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.

“Why did you choose me as your model?”

Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.

The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click.

It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence.

You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you.

You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission.

Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.

Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.

Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”

“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.”

Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”

“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.”

He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”

“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.

Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?”

He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.”

“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”

Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.

He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.”

Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.

His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you.

Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world.

“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small.

“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it.

“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.”

He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand.

“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture.

“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent.

Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”

Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.

He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently.

The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier.

A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.

“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”

“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.

“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground.

He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.”

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.

A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.”

Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.

No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin.

His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one.

Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying.

Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.

Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”

Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”

“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.

Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.

“Are you usually this wet, baby?”

Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”

He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.

His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.

Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth.

He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.

“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.”

He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines.

Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.

Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.

Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you.

He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.

“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.

Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.

Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.

Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.

He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.”

You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist.

He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago.

His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset.

Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”

A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul.

You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”

“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim.

You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock.

As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again.

Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.

The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.

Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately.

The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before.

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”

You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.”

“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song.

Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.

Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.

“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed.

This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.

He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit.

His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.

“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.

“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button.

Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were.

Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you.

He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.”

Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details.

The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture.

Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.

Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.”

Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?”

Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.”

Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it.

The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.

There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.

You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him.

He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn’t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”

“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.”

“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.”

Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”

3K notes · View notes

heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Manager!Seijoh

a/n: im a seijoh stan and theyre my little plant babies

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

this is so long oml i hate myself

theyre an actual boy band istg

lets be honest, they probably thought you were just another oikawa fangirl

they thought you just wanted to be closer to their captain bc you were another delusional girl who wanted to live out her fantasies

lmao im not trying to be salty

but when you just stared blankly at oikawa tooru after he called you a beautiful flower,

stageplay hinata calling you a mugwort

the team just about threw themselves on your feet

tbh you werent really there to get a boyfriend or for oikawa

you just needed an after school club and the other teams already had managers

the only sport that didnt was the boys volleyball team

imagine why

you were actually a little wary, since you knew of oikawa, being a first year yourself, and you were aware of his psycho fangirls who could probably kill you

but you needed a club that would last you for the next 3 years to graduate

it was kunimi who actually recommended being a manager

you were in his class and you noticed him sleeping in the morning so you gave him your energy bar

‘thanks’

you shrugged and smiled

thats why he tolerated you more than others

you were nice and you were the only one who noticed his tiredness, even the teacher left him alone, and did something about it

sometimes, you even gave him an energy drink

‘can you tell me why youve been so tired lately? i dont think ive seen you wake up until lunch’

he opened the snack and started munching while replying

‘early morning practice for volleyball is still a big adjustment. our captain demands us to be there 6 in the morning sharp and if we’re even a minute late, we’d have to run laps. like for every minute youre late, you have to run those amount’

oh my why is kunimi talking so much

but i love kunimi and first year seijoh boys rights in this household is valid

you furrowed your eyebrows

‘but yall are still growing and you need all your sleep. if i were there, id yell at your captain’

he grinned slightly, imagining your short height beating up their captain

‘meh. you want to be our manager? i saw you looking at the clubs board yesterday and we dont have one so you could take the opportunity and beat him up then’

ofc you agreed bc kunimi was best boi and you just wanted him to have enough sleep for once

after class, he waited for you to finish packing up and when you finished, yall left the classroom

until another guy with a spiky hairstyle joined you and you noticed him as the guy who sometimes came over to eat lunch with kunimi

‘oh, hello l/n-san’

you smiled gently

‘drop the formalities, kindaichi-kun. its only fair.’

he nodded before walking beside kunimi

‘kindaichi, l/n might be our new manager’

the onion head excitedly looked at you

‘really?! yes! so we dont have to fill our bottles ourselves anymore!’

kunimi glared at him and slapped his stomach

‘shes our manager, not our maid’

you laughed but placed an arm on him

‘its okay. i was a manager for my middle school volleyball team so i know a little bit about being one’

the two shared a look

god, they really hit the jackpot

as yall walked closer to the gym, you noticed the big pile of girls huddling at the corner

kunimi sighed

‘l/n, ill warn you ahead of time of our captain. hes kinda,,,, too much’

but you flashed him a smile

‘hes not the first one ive handled’

oml player-chan!!!

so when you opened the door and entered the gym and oikawa hit you with his normal antics, you just stared at him

‘okay and?’

hanamaki and mattsun howled before rushing to you and grabbing you in a hug

‘girls like her really exist!!’

you gave kunimi and kindaichi a signal of help and they nodded before gently prying the senpais off of you

‘senpai, please’

you gave kunimi a grateful nod

coach irihata went up to you bc wow, kunimi has a friend with of another gender?

‘how can we help you, miss?’

‘im l/n y/n, first year, and id like to apply as the manager’

internally, the coach sighed bc you werent the first one to apply

the reason they havent had a manager for years was bc of oikawa’s fangirls hiding themselves under that false facade

but he saw you brush off that comment oikawa make with no hint of fluster or blush on your face so he decides to give you a trial run, in guise of seeing if you could handle these chaotic boys

‘do you have any experience as manager? or do we need to teach you the ropes?’

‘i was a manager for 3 years in my middle school volleyball’

he nodded

‘ill give you one month. a trial run of a month to test the waters’

you agreed and your trial run began

kunimi mentioned that morning practice starts at 6 am sharp so you set your alarm for 5 to get ready and get to school on time before the boys

you remembered how to set up the nets so you quickly put them out (using a step stool bc we short) and ran to get the basket of balls

their water bottles were filled and you were in the middle of lugging the big basket of towels when the third years entered

the 4 of them usually came earlier than the rest so they saw you dragging the basket of fresh towels and wipe your sweat before smiling at the work youve done

iwa was so happy bc it was usually him who did this stuff and now that he had someone do it for him, it was like a god-send

oikawa’s eyes shone and he waved at you

‘yohoo, y/n-chan!’

you cringed at the loud voice of the famous oikawa tooru

‘hello, oikawa-san’

he chuckled at your politeness before hugging you

‘you did all this for us? youre so cute, y/n-chan!’

instead of the normal blush and love-struck eyes, you were actually very uncomfortable of the sudden skinship and you quickly ran to the side when iwa hit him at the head

‘shittykawa! leave her alone!’

‘iwa-chan!’

makki and mattsun stood next to you as the boys did their usual fight

‘is this all an act or are you really not attracted to oikawa?’

mattsun shot him a surprised look bc why was he so straightforward

but you just shrugged

‘hes cute, i admit. but ive seen much cuter and the boys in my middle school team was basically full of him so,,, and i hate guys who think theyre all that just bc theyre blessed w a pretty face. if anything, ill probably go for iwaizumi-san’

pop off S I S T E R!!!

you just won the heart of these two

slowly but surely, they all came to accept you and iwa straight out loves you bc you maintained this routine for the whole month of your trial run

and you still remained indifferent of oikawa’s advances and he was even impressed and slightly agitated that you werent paying attention to him

‘y/n-chan, one date! just one!’

you huffed before looking up from your clipboard

‘i like men, oikawa-san. not boys’

that comment made the guys shriek

‘y/n-chan! youre just a first year! you dont need a man!’

‘youre not a man, oikawa!’

you left oikawa to be tormented by his teammates and went to go and hand over the report to the coach

he was impressed by the notes you made bc they were ones he even missed

like the split-second of hesitation that kindaichi usually has that goes unnoticed but you immediately saw

or the wince oikawa has whenever he so much as jumps an inch

you could even tell the difference between iwa’s spike and if he was being easy or he was going full-out

this added on to the fact that the boys loved you and irihata actually saw kunimi try more

but he thinks its only to earn your praises

‘y/n, youre officially the team manager’

yall celebrated at the normal hang-out spot which was the ramen shop and it truly shocked you at how much these boys ate

granted, this was the first time you ate together but you didnt expect them to eat nearly 5 bowls each

you could only finish 2 and you already feel like throwing up

‘honestly, how do you guys not gain weight after this?’

the table you sat at, iwa, kindaichi, mattsun, and kunimi, looked at you and shrugged

‘i work out’

‘i run’

‘i fast’

‘i poop it out’

lmao im sorry i cackled too hard at this

you stared blankly at mattsun’s answer who said it so seriously that you snorted a laugh

they watched you and your laughter bc you havent really expressed yourself as much

so they made it their goal to see you laugh more

‘y/n-chan! you need to eat more!’

oikawa shouted, clearly food drunk, but you shook your head aggressively

‘i only planned to eat one bowl but he just had to shove another down my throat’

‘but you need to grow, y/n-chan!’

‘i want to grow taller! not wider!!’

As a manager:

oh boy

you basically grew into kinda their mom

‘oikawa-san! you need to rest your knee or youre going to hurt yourself! i will drag you home myself!’

‘kunimi, if you try to get this one more spike, i’ll buy you a bag of those caramel bites you like’

‘iwa-san! if you hit oikawa-san too much, youll destroy the little braincells he has!’

‘yahaba-san, nice dump!’

‘is your knee okay, watari-san?’

yall really forget that watari and yahaba exist sometimes smh

it was part of the work

keeping up with seijoh

so to keep them encouraged, you gave them praises that they always demand for and they always turn to you whenever they did something good

mattsun gives you a look whenever he blocks iwa’s spikes and you give kindaichi a head pat whenever he blocks some too

bc of how you are with them, sometimes, they forget that you are actually just a first year

they get shocked whenever you walk in with kunimi and kindaichi and talk about the current homework bc it slips their mind that their hard-working manager was actually just a 15-year-old girl

so, they try to ease the burden whenever they can

like iwa offering to help you whenever you have to take their jerseys to the laundrymat

or offering to help you with your assignments since theyve only been through it once

more like watari, yahaba, and iwa bc the matsuhana are clueless and acts like they completely skipped that grade

also

!!!!

oikawa’s fangirls ltr dont leave you alone!!!

now, its known that youre the manager of the volleyball team bc oikawa has boasted about your efforts and such

this obvs ticked off a bunch of girls bc they were jealous that you got to spend more time in a single practice with their precious oikawa-senpai than they have their entire lives

more than once theyve cornered you to threaten you to stay away from their senpai or youll have something coming for you

you never take them seriously bc you can fight too and you just give them a look and push them away

but this one time

TRIGGER WARNING-START

okay tea

the self-proclaimed president of the oikawa tooru fanclub, kenta miyo, cornered you at the bathroom with her other minions

you were just washing your hands and drying them off when she marched up to you and grabbed your hair before tugging it back

obviously you were surprised and shouted

‘oi! what the hell?!’

‘you slut! you need to stay away from my tooru, got it?!’

ehm what

you hissed and wrenched her arm from your hair and pushed her away

your hair was now a mess and you were fuming, already sick and tired of the torture these girls put you through

‘he belongs to himself, not you! so stop being delusional and leave me alone already!’

she signalled for the girls to hold on to you which you slapped away but they forcefully grabbed your arm while you kicked at them and struggle to get out of their hold

jesus what do these girls eat

miyo watches you struggle with a smile and cackles

‘oh? no fight anymore, little kouhai?’

you glared at her

‘i dont want to beat yall up bc id get yelled at by tooru so you need to let me go or regret it’

at the mention of his first name, her eyes widened and her face twisted and she slapped you

‘oi! respect your senpai, you brat! dont you ever say oikawa’s first name!’

your lips curled

‘oh? thats funny, because he actually told me to call him that since he wants his cute little manager to be very comfortable with him’

you achieved a feat that she has been working to get her entire high school life and miyo was not happy

‘ive been with him for 3 years and you just suddenly show up out of nowhere and call him that?! i dont think so!’

she had her hands around your neck and you gripped her arms, making her wince

but you laughed at that comment

‘heh, thats pathetic, isn’t it? here you are, my senpai, who has been vying for his attention for 3 years only to be ignored yet a mere first year, who shows up out of nowhere, has been asked to a date nearly a million times every day. that must be tough’

she shrieked at that comment and threw you on the floor, making you accidentally hit your head at the edge of the sink

yall im actually so bothered by this scene and im wincing as im typing

you bit your lip to prevent any sound of pain to escape bc you knew thats what she wanted to hear from you

but you werent going to give her the satisfaction

instead, you looked up at her, hatred swirling in your eyes

‘youre freaking psycho, you know that? once tooru and hajime knows about this, theyre going to give you hell. they wont ever let this go bc im the manager of their prized team and their little baby sister. so go ahead, do what you want with me. bc i paid too much for these nails to be tainted by dirt like you’

saiyo, a girl you noticed to be watari’s classmate when you went and visited him, nervously tugged on miyo’s jacket

‘miyo, we should go-’

‘SHES BLUFFING. AND HERE, SINCE YOUR SOCCERFIELD FOREHEAD IS BLEEDING, LET ME HELP WASH IT OUT’

and she poured over a carton of banana milk over you, making you wince at the sticky and cold liquid

the tough facade was crumbling and you were now screaming for help in your head, hoping that stupid theory from yahaba about team telepathy to work

but it didnt

TRIGGER WARNING-END

when miyo and her girls left, you sat on the floor, soaked and sticky and bleeding

then you begin to cry angry tears

you were angry that you were being treated like this just bc you were a manager

you were angry that you let them do that to you

you were angry that you prized your nails more than punching her square in the nose

you were just angry

periodt

staggering on your own feet, you stood up and leaned on the sink, eyes widening at the dripping red liquid from the gash on your forehead, staining the porcelain sink

you were stupid and unconsciously touched it making you wince

‘shit, that hurts’

you whined quietly

there was little you can do with toilet paper and water to clean yourself up but you managed to at least stop the bleeding

you knew you had to be put on concussion protocol just in case bc you that hit was quite hard but at the moment, that wasnt your concern

practice has already started and this was the first time you werent present for daily practice

this was confirmed at the constant buzzing of your phone in your skirt pocket which you didnt listen to and instead, started thinking of ways to go to your locker and get your stuff and fake being sick but at the same time, not be seen and relayed to the team

time was ticking and you had to come up with a plan fast before oikawa will send the team to come looking around the building for you

once you looked at your reflection and smiled big, you decided it was enough to not show the pain you were in right now

girl im hurting for you

you peeked out of the bathroom door and saw the coast was clear so you quickly ran to your classroom, which was thankfully empty, and quickly grabbed your things

but as you were packing up, the tears just kept falling

it didnt stop as you bolted down the stairs, using your cardigan to hide your face from the public

once you were safely out of school grounds, you finally took out your phone and reviewed through all the worried and concerned texts from the team group chat

but you just replied, ‘im fine but i just feel really sick right now. girl stuff’

you smirked, knowing that would keep the boys away

but oikawa had to go and ask you to call him

‘y/n-chan! do you want oikawa-senpai to come over with chocolates and ice cream?! wings or no wings?!’

your jaw dropped at the question and clearly scandalized by the question

the team was too as shouting began and you could faintly hear iwa scream, ‘oh my god, shittykawa!’

‘im seriously okay, oikawa-san. i just need to be alone right now and ill try and get some sleep. good bye’

then you hung up

there was no way you could tell them

they were in their last year anyways so doing something about it wouldnt matter

and you were strong

but apparently not strong enough to fight them off though

you would cover the wound with concealer and continue on with practice tomorrow as if everything was normal

but there was only so much you could take

just yesterday, they trashed your locker and a week ago, they took your bento and threw it away

you even got into a fight with this one girl but she scampered away, too scared to do anything alone

so you were actually just tired and want everyone to leave you alone

believe me, youve thought of quitting sometimes

but youve actually created a bond with these boys

like when you take hanamaki to get cream puffs whenever he loses against iwa in arm wrestling

or when yahaba calls you at ungodly hours to express his worries for next year and to fill oikawa’s shoes

it was simple moments that you shared with each player that kept you from not leaving

soon, you found yourself crying again and the looks pedestrians were giving you was starting to make you uncomfortable

a girl, with her gross hair in a bun, puffy eyes with a bleeding wound and walking down the street

that was a sight

so you cut a corner to an alley by your house to escape from the judging eyes and you were too busy wiping your eyes to see a boy who was crouched down on the floor and ended up walking over him

omg my baby kyoken hello luv!!!!

you gasped and you were surprised and quickly apologized

kyotani was originally about to yell at you, no matter what, but he saw the state you were in and concluded you were either from a fight or was beaten up

he recognized that and decided to just glare at you and go back to feeding the stray dogs and cats

you breathed a sigh in relief when he didnt yell at you bc that wouldve been the last thing you needed today

‘sir, im sorry for hitting you. if there is something i could do for you, dont hesitate’

he ignored you and you focused on him paying attention to the strays

going into your backpack, you had a milk carton and a sausage stick from earlier

you used your thermos lid to serve as the milk bowl for the cats while you peeled open the meat and used your scissors to cut chunks of it for the dogs to have some

kyotani watched as you went into action to feeding the animals that people usually ignored

he knew you

well, he recognized you

when he watched from the top of the gym, he saw you as their manager who ran around and helped everyone

sure, he still didnt trust you

but he watched you grin and smile as the animals started to eat

‘im in a hurry right now so i have to go but ill feed you again tomorrow, okay? you too, stranger-san. ill bring food for you too’

then you stood up and ran away, probably in a hurry to fix that wound

he wouldve offered to treat it for you but he remained silent, watching the cats mewl at the now empty lid

the next day, oikawa was worried for you and when he saw you at early morning practice, he practically glomped to your side

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

to this day, no one still knew what happened to you

you kept it quiet and you were sure you got everything handled

except for one person

kyotani was smart and for some reason he knew you got beat up by the fangirls and the perpetrators were easily found bc he saw them huddled around your locker, probably trashing it again, and lets just say,

no one is def going to mess w you now

back to manager moments!!

during practice matches, the boys rally around you to prevent other teams from sweet-talking you

they make sure no one gets past them and always have excuses to get your attention

you knew what they were doing but you pretended not to, heart warming at their protectiveness and hunger for your attention

even though you have your own jacket, the team gives you theirs all the time like oikawa has his special team jacket w his name at the back and when he feels threatened by schools like johzenji, he makes you wear it

‘youre mine, y/n-chan and i want that blondie to know’

‘ehm, no, oikawa-san. im iwaizumi-san’s’

oikawa screamed

lmao training camps w them is CHAOTIC

YOU WANT TO CRYYYYYY

OIKAWA IS CRYING BC IWAIZUMI IS BEATING HIM UP, MATSUHANA ARE FREAKING OUT THE FIRST YEARS ABOUT THE GHOSTS IN THE WOODS AND NOW KINDAICHI REFUSES TO LET GO OF YOU, WATARI GOT LOST GOING TO THE BATHROOM AND YAHABA IS SCREAMING ABOUT THE WEATHER MESSING UP HIS HAIR AND MAKING IT FRIZZY

reminder: threaten to quit everytime they get too much

your hugs are the best!!!!

you have a special hug for every player

oikawa gets his favorite which was the normal arm around the waist with your arms around his neck while he snuggles in your neck

iwa gets flustered easily so you hug him from behind so you cant see his flustered look

mattsun actually likes the jumping in the air so he catches you type of hug

makki is more tame and has his arms around your shoulder with his chin on your head

yahaba is the twirly kind where he just picks you up and swings you around

watari also gets flustered easily so he likes the one-arm hugs

kindaichi gets blushy at the slightest touch from you but he gives you a hug from behind you himself where he can bury his face in your hair while you caress his arms

kunimi, now he likes it when you squeeze him extremely tight bc it makes him feel loved and feel alive

kyo doesnt even talk to you what makes you think you can give him a hug

their lost for shiratorizawa really broke them though

you made them their own bentos for nearly a week to keep them encouraged and gave oikawa extra attention to keep him from sulking or practicing late

‘oikawa-senpai, lets go watch that new movie later’

‘S-S-SENPAI?!’

then the arrival of our baby kyoken

yahaba was moody the whole practice and you were currently trying to keep him from spiking a ball to someone

‘even just today, he’s late’

‘who?’

‘that stupid dog’

he just keeps mumbling and grunting

and then the said dog arrived

you peaked out from behind iwaizumi, who protectively went in front of you

shock ran through you and you pointed at him

‘puppy-kun!’

lmao puppy what

youve called him that since he refused to tell you his name, but you call him that bc he paid special attention to this one baby beagle

he raised a hand in greeting and you gave him a smile

‘youre a player here, too?!’

he ‘glared’ at you but nodded stiffly

the team really thought that he would lash out at you but he is surprisingly tolerant

the power of the manager

he still hasnt talked to you but he does respond to you and even helps you with chores, still not talking ofc

hes so tsun tsun and he deserves my heart yall

however, youve heard him talk to iwaizumi, and iwaizumi only, so youve heard his voice before

ngl, you were flustered by how gruff and deep it was

then their loss to karasuno

bruh, it was KARASUNO

the entire team fell apart and after the match, each of them ran away from you to stop lashing out

you were also on the verge of crying, seeing the broken look on your third years

your precious third years

you decided to give them their own space but you heard a loud banging sound from the bathroom

yahaba and watari were outside, clearly trying to talk to someone in there on coming out but it got louder

okay you were lowkey like, ‘hm, i should not be here’

but you recognized that voice

you knocked at the boys door to be respectful

‘kyo-san? its me, y/n’

he was silent but he did unlock it

you took this as a sign to enter and you gave yahaba and watari a smile

‘i’ll be fine. go to kindaichi and kunimi. they need your comfort right now’

tbh, you were surprised the bathroom was still intact but you saw the stall door at the very end being rattled and shaken

you remained by the door but you wanted to go to him

‘kyo-san, please come out so i can treat your injuries’

he expected you to say those words like ‘its okay’ or ‘theres always next year’ but you didnt

instead, you knew he was hurt and wanted to help him

he continued to give a few punches to the wall and the door before emerging

you wordlessly treated the wounds and offered your hand

‘im here, kyo-san. dont worry, im right here’

at the ramen shop, you told them to eat as much as they want and wordlessly gave them your card, slightly crying inside bc you know this was going to be like over a hundred dollars

but you were treating the boys bc they deserved it

you sat beside kindaichi, who was just sobbing and apologizing, so you were wiping his tears and holding his hand under the table

this precious babie

bruh i was sobbing when i watched this part like uuggghhhh

after dinner, you walked with the other third years, knowing they would go to the gym, so you gave everyone else your special hugs before sending them home

‘text me when you arrive safely, okay?’

‘yes, mom’

‘KINDAICHI WHAT’

oikawa’s speech made you cry bc despite only knowing them for not even a year, you already feel like a family

you didnt want your family to be broken but you knew they would all go their separate ways eventually

there was a big hug pile of third years on the side where you took a picture and sent it to the group chat

you had to eventually go home after helping them clean up and when you checked your phone, a fresh batch of tears rolled down

each from every person on the team but with the same sentence and same words

‘we love you, l/n y/n. thanks for everything.’

ngl i dont think this was that good and its like 8 in the morning and im extremely tired

i want to do karasuno, nekoma, and fukurodani but im so exhausted i cannot right now

2K notes · View notes

homoose · 3 years

Text

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part IV

Summary: The Halloween parade. Will and JJ are adorable. Anita suggests that Spencer become a classroom volunteer. Reader has a rough week.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a smidge of angst

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 4.4k

a/n: I wish we’d seen more of Will and JJ as parents because I imagine it would be adorable and hilarious. Let’s see if you can guess all of their costumes before the reveal lmao. Your only clue is that Spencer loves keeping with a theme and the brown vest (I literally learned how to make my own shitty gif bc I couldn’t find the right one in the search and I do not understand embedding lmao) makes an appearance.

Series Masterlist

———

“Did you grab the bags?” JJ swept the pleated, platinum braid out of her face as she bent over to zip up her boots.

“No, I thought you did,” Will called, bouncing down the stairs.

“I put them in the car already,” Spencer informed them, popping his head back in the front door. “There was just the one box, right?”

“Yeah, that was it,” Will confirmed. “Shit— where’s Michael’s sword?”

“Should be on the counter,” JJ huffed, standing up and adjusting the bodice of the blue dress.

“Got it.” Will came around the corner of the kitchen, patting his hips where his pockets would be— if he weren’t wearing an adult-sized onesie. “Keys?” Spencer held them up. “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.”

The trio headed to the waiting SUV, Spencer climbing into the backseat as Will and JJ got into the front. Will and JJ chattered on about dinner plans and schedules for the following week, and Spencer smoothed down the brown wool vest layered over his white linen shirt. He’d spent entirely too long putting together the costume over the last week (with a little help from Penelope). He’d scrapped the Spock getup he’d been working on since September— he could always wear that next year. But he’d only get one chance to attend the Room 105 Halloween parade, and once the idea had wormed its way into his brain, he had to make it happen.

“Spence?” JJ’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Would you be able to pick Michael up on Monday?”

He ran his hands down his thighs over the mint green cropped trousers. “Sure, as long as we don’t have a case.”

Will smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “How’s Ms. Y/L/N?”

“You’re about to see her yourself, so you can ask,” Spencer replied.

Will laughed, and JJ turned in her seat. “Whoa, coming in hot with the snark. You really do like her.”

Spencer fought and failed to keep the blush from rising, irritation at being teased blooming sharp inside his chest. He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s a great teacher.”

“That’s not a no,” JJ noted, eyebrows raised.

“She’s Michael’s teacher,” Spencer said, like it meant something.

“Yeah, so?” Will shrugged his shoulders. “You’re his godfather. Technically, you’re not related, so it wouldn’t be breakin’ any rules.”

“Well, it’s not like that, so it doesn’t really matter,” Spencer insisted.

Will hummed and JJ turned back around in her seat. Spencer drummed his fingers on his knees and watched DC roll past through the SUV window. It really wasn’t like that. Y/N was just… very nice. A nice, beautiful, sweet, silly kindergarten teacher that he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how many books he read or coffees he drank or chess games he played.

Monday was the last day of his sabbatical, and he was even more relieved to be headed back than usual— grateful that he’d have something to occupy his mind other than her. Because his mind was, indeed, occupied. The way her smile beamed like the spotlight on a stage, illuminating whoever happened to be on the receiving end. The way her hands moved in unbound, buoyant illustrations of her thoughts. The way her laugh felt like the first warm sip of tea or the wrap of his favorite scarf. It was getting out of hand, to say the least.

Will pulled into the parking lot, and instantly Spencer’s palms began to sweat. He glanced at the headband on the seat beside him and felt the mortification clawing at his insides. The costume was ridiculous; he was ridiculous. He should have just worn the Spock outfit.

Maybe he could just wait in the car and pretend like he hadn’t been able to make it. Or he could just leave the headband in the car. But then he’d just be in mint green capris with a sweater vest and platform sandals, and she’d have absolutely no idea who he was supposed to be. Then he’d have to explain it, and it would be even worse.

Will parked the car, and he and JJ immediately stepped out. Spencer watched them near the hood of the SUV, enjoying a rare moment of co-parenting without work hovering right out of frame. Will pulled the hood of the onesie up and JJ laughed, brushing her hand over the brown fabric twigs sticking out of the top. He supposed that if Will Lamontagne, Jr. could strut his stuff in adult footie pajamas, his handmade costume was probably all right.

With one last resigned sigh, Spencer slid the headband on. He grabbed the box of Halloween treats, opened the door, and hauled himself out of the vehicle. He pushed the door closed and looked in the reflection of the window, adjusting the headband around his curls and blowing out a breath.

“Ready?” JJ called, peering around the side of the SUV.

“Yeah—yeah,” Spencer agreed. He moved around the vehicle to join them, the three of them walking to find a spot in the crowd of parents standing around the carpool loop.

When they found a suitable spot, Will looked up at him and shook his head. The sandals added three extra inches to Spencer’s height, putting him a good six inches taller than Will. “Those shoes make you look like an actual giant,” Will chuckled. “I know that’s the point, but I feel like even more of a shrimp next to ya now.”

Spencer set the box of candy bags on the ground and would have shoved his hands into his pockets if the linen trousers had any. Before he could respond, JJ pointed to the door of the school, cooing, “Oh my god, look. Remember when the boys were that small?”

The PreK classes came out first, and Spencer could acknowledge that they were very cute, barely out of the toddler stage and holding hands with a line buddy. But he was waiting on a very specific cutie.

He’d barely had the thought when the kindergarten classes started to emerge from the door. He almost didn’t recognize her at first— just an orange blob and green shrubbery. But the converse gave her away.

“How is she so cute?” JJ threaded her arm through Will’s. “Even when she’s dressed as a giant orange blob.”

“It’s a gift,” Will agreed. He glanced up at Spencer. “Right, doc?”

Spencer nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “I think so, yeah.” Will grinned and bumped JJ’s shoulder, but Spencer barely even registered his own response.

Thankfully they’d picked a spot near the very end of the loop, so he had plenty of time to get himself together before she was in front of him. While Will and JJ waved at all the tiny superheroes and princesses, he watched Y/N. She was all orange fabric from her shoulders to her knees, with bright orange Chucks to match. On her head was a strange variation on a party hat, bright green ferns sprouting from the tip of the cone and falling into her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous and entirely adorable, and he was in so much trouble.

When the class finally approached the final curve of the loop, Will nudged Spencer and gestured to the box of goodie bags. Spencer crouched down and lifted the box, standing back up to see Y/N laughing at Will and JJ. “Very cute, Lamontagne Family.”

Her gaze traveled across, then up, and then her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Spencer wondered if maybe the earth could just open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh my god, are you—?” She stepped forward and ran her hand lightly over the vest, and he didn’t dare breathe. “Are you the BFG?!” Her hand dropped from his torso, and he didn’t have time to be disappointed before her face split into quite possibly the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet.

A tiny Superman shouted, “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re making a gap!”

Y/N came back to herself, gesturing to all three of them. “Don’t go anywhere.” She accepted the offered box of treats from Spencer and then turned to help her class catch up.

Will gave him a look. “It’s not like that, huh?”

“Oh my god, she likes you.” JJ clapped her hands together. “This is amazing.”

“I’m takin’ credit for this,” Will bragged. “I’m a regular ol’ matchmaker.”

Spencer couldn’t even be bothered to attempt a denial. He was still thinking about the feel of her palm on his chest, how it might feel to hold her hand, the way her eyes practically sparkled when she saw his ridiculous headband. He was in so much trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, the classes filed back out into the parking lot for dismissal. Y/N led the class down the sidewalk, grinning at the excitement coursing through her line. As they approached the end of the loop, Y/N caught sight of them and waved. The kids lined up in their normal spot, chatting excitedly about their costumes and candy bags.

“Lord, Ms. Y/L/N, you’re something else,” Will laughed.

“Is it not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?” She laughed and tapped the green shrubbery hanging in her face. “I have the kids do a little persuasive writing thing every year. They draw a picture and write a sentence about what they think Ms. Y/L/N should be for Halloween, and then we take a vote.”

She waved her hands in that way Spencer loved, the way that was so similar to his own. “Usually the options are pretty tame, you know—ghost, witch, bumblebee. This year was a near tie between runner-up Jojo Siwa and well,” she gestured at herself, “carrot.” Y/N cackled, and the leaves on top of her head shook with the action.

They all laughed along with her, and then JJ added, “The details are truly incredible. Is this an actual plant on your head?”

“I really thought about it,” Y/N laughed, “but no, it’s just fake ferns stuffed into a cardstock funnel.” She gestured at Will and JJ. “But also, excuse me— this family costume is ridiculously cute. Mr. Lamontagne, loving this onesie. Mrs. Jareau, I didn’t even know it was possible to look prettier than you usually do, but here you are. And Michael’s Anna costume?” She held her hands up. “Incredible. Show stopping. I wish I had an aunt Penelope to enlist the help of, because that cape is the actual height of fashion.”

“She helped Spence, too,” JJ prompted, stealing a glance in his direction.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, turning to smile at Spencer.

“We um, 3D printed the ears,” he clarified.

“No way!” She took a step closer to him, peering up at the detail on the headband. He leaned down a little for her to get a closer look. “That is so cool. I’ve never actually seen anything 3D printed up close before— did you design them yourself?”

She met his eyes briefly, and he realized how close they were— close enough that he caught the faintest whiff of sandalwood and cardamom. Of course she even smelled like warmth and home. “Well. I, um— I drew a sort of sketch, I guess. And then Penelope did the software coding. I— I’m not very good with technology, honestly.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the plastic, and he decided she was really trying to kill him. “Yeah, I’m not sure I really understand how it works.”

“Well, first you create a blueprint file of the design you want to print, which you can do through modeling software or three-dimensional scanning. Then you convert the file into an STL file— named for Stereolithography which was the first ever 3D printing process. The STL file is made up of triangular mesh polygons, which is the data that describes the surface of a three-dimensional object. After that, you use a software program to complete the process of slicing— essentially dividing or chopping the 3D model into hundreds or thousands of horizontal layers that the printer can print one at a time to create the 3D object. And then the printer prints each layer until you have your finished product.”

Y/N was quiet, and he pulled back to see her grinning at him. “I thought you said you weren’t very good with technology?”

“I’m not good with using technology,” he clarified.

She nodded. “Gotcha. So you just know everything about it.”

Her joking tone had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I read a lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“I can read at a rate of 20,000 words per minute, so… a lot.”

Her eyebrows shot up into the tangle of ferns on her head, and he was just so overwhelmed by how adorable she was. “Well, if I ever have a question about anything, I know who I’m coming to.”

He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I’m happy to answer any and all of your questions.”

She let her gaze travel over the rest of the costume. “Oh my god, the sandals! Man, you really nailed it. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I thought about being Trunchbull, but I couldn’t find the sweatshirt,” he joked.

She laughed, and he wanted to bottle it up to keep forever. “As much as I would have loved to see your hair in a bun… you’re much too sweet to have been able to pull that off.” She smiled softly at him. “Much more suited to our friend the BFG.”

He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and it was only then that he realized Will and JJ had gone to the car. He looked back to Y/N, opening his mouth but unsure of what he was going to say.

“Y/L/N!” He turned his head to see Anita jogging toward them. “Did you—” The giant cardboard box she was wearing knocked into one of the few kindergarteners left in Y/N’s line, nearly sending them to the ground. “Oh my gosh, sorry sweetheart!” She righted the startled child, and Spencer gave her a once over, completely at a loss as to what her costume could be.

“What in the world are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, choking out a laugh.

Anita looked at her deadpan. “A monopoly piece. Remind me that I’m never participating in team costumes ever again.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Y/N. “Next year I’m gonna wear an orange t-shirt, call myself a carrot, and be much more comfortable.”

“I’ll have you know this costume was a lot of work,” Y/N remarked, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure it was. You could have put on an orange dress, stuck a green pipe cleaner in your hair, and called it a day, but that’s not the Y/L/N way.” Anita’s eyes slid across to where Spencer stood. “Well, hello, doctor. I have absolutely no idea what you’re supposed to be, but I love everything about it.”

“Spencer’s the BFG,” Y/N said, and Spencer could have sworn she sounded almost proud.

“Ah, Roald Dahl, of course.” Anita smirked. “I see you, Spencer. I see you.” She put her hands on her hips— or rather where her hips would have been if they weren’t covered by a ridiculously large box. “So, when are you going to volunteer?”

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Like, when are you going to volunteer in Y/L/N’s classroom?” She held up her hand, palm down, and made a circular motion between the two of them. “You know, hang out, but professionally.”

“Oh my god, did you need something?” Y/N’s squeaked, eyes wide.

Anita ignored her. “You just have to do a background check, but I’m sure you’ll pass it.”

“Lopez,” Y/N said, staring her down. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you got the email about the PD after school on Tuesday. But this was much more fun.” She winked at Spencer. “Bye, Spencer.”

They both stared after her as she nearly skipped across the grass to the building. Y/N turned to him. “I’m— so sorry.”

He met her eyes and took the leap. “Volunteering could be fun.”

He watched her press her lips together to contain her smile. “It could be.”

He didn’t bother containing his own. “I’ll um— I’ll shoot you an email.”

“I’ll respond to your email.”

…

When he walked in the door, Spencer made a beeline for his desk. He opened his laptop and pulled up his email account, writing as fast as his one-finger typing would allow.

Spencer Reid Re: Volunteering

Hi!

I’m just following up about volunteering. Anita mentioned a form that I needed to fill out? Now that I’ll be back to work, I’ll just need to plan around the BAU schedule. Could you give me a list of days that would work for you?

Really looking forward to seeing you in action.

Spencer

He checked his two other email messages, and then left the browser up while he thumbed through his most recent reading material.

He sat at his desk for the remainder of the afternoon, distractedly perusing his book and glancing at his empty inbox every minute or so. His gaze flew up to the screen at the ding of a new message at 6:30, only to find a promotional email from one of his favorite indie bookstores.

He closed his laptop with a sigh. It was a Friday night. Y/N probably just didn’t check her email on the weekend. He could wait until Monday. He’d see her on Monday.

He limited himself to checking his laptop twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. When Monday rolled around, he checked it in the morning. He leaned back against the leather of his chair, staring at the empty inbox. He had some errands to run, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a phone that had email on it.

He ran his last-day-of-sabbatical errands and stopped in at his favorite coffee shop for most likely the last midday, sit-down coffee he’d have for a while. Before he realized, it was 2:30. He brought his empty mug to the counter and waved to the barista. Then he walked to the car and prepped his conversation starters.

“Did you get my email? I sent you an email, just wondering if you saw it? Hey— Hello— Hi, I wasn’t sure if you got my email.” He blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” He waved his hand. “I’m great. Did you get my email?” He laughed into the empty car. “Ridiculous, Spencer. You’re ridiculous.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, his heart was racing and his palms were slipping against the steering wheel. He pulled around the loop, looking with a furrowed brow at the area where Y/N should be. In her place was a short woman with cropped grey hair. She held a clipboard and looked generally overwhelmed.

Michael sprinted to the car as soon as he saw it. He pulled open the door and let out a world weary sigh. Spencer turned in his seat. “Everything all right?”

“No, everything is terrible,” he huffed dramatically. “Ms. Y/L/N was sick today. Mrs. Franklin was our substitute, and she smells weird.”

Spencer looked through the window at Mrs. Franklin, struggling to keep a few rowdy boys in the line. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sure Ms. Y/L/N will be back soon.” He was secretly relieved that he had a potential explanation for the unanswered email.

“I can’t take another day of Mrs. Franklin,” Michael sighed, buckling his seatbelt. “I hope Ms. Y/L/N’s back tomorrow.”

Spencer let out a breath and pulled away from the curb. “Me, too.”

…

JJ huffed out a breath, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. Spencer was nose deep in a book, but he glanced up at the sound. “I can take a few of those if you want,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I’ve really only got six left.”

He looked at his watch. “Each report takes you approximately 37 minutes. With eight minute breaks in between, you’re not going to be out of here until almost 6:00.”

JJ laughed. “I can’t believe I missed out on these scathing performance reviews for thirty days.”

“Suit yourself.” Spencer dropped his gaze back to his reading.

His first week back from sabbatical had been uneventful to say the least. The team had just wrapped a local case, and they’d spent the better part of the week going over consultations and potentials. It was finally Friday, and Spencer was finished with his stack of backlogged reports.

He was finishing the last chapter of the book when JJ dropped a string of quiet curses. He continued reading, waiting for her to ask. She was quiet for another minute.

“I forgot I’m on duty to pick Michael up today.” Spencer looked up at her, slight panic coming over him.

“I really don’t mind finishing your reports,” he offered.

JJ raised her eyebrows. “What, no offering to visit Ms. Y/L/N?”

Spencer closed his book. “I, um. I sent her an email a week ago, and she hasn’t responded.”

“So?”

“So…” Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s weird, right?”

JJ laughed. “You don’t really use email, so I’d imagine your inbox is pretty orderly. But if you use it a lot, it can be easy for messages to get lost.” She looked at him pointedly. “I can almost guarantee that she’s not ignoring you, Spence.”

He sighed. “I guess there’s a quick way to find out.”

...

Spencer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door of the school. He glanced at the clock, noting the class was later than they’d ever been. Without really understanding why, he pulled out of the loop and swung back around to park in the lot. He exited the car, and as he rounded the hood, he spotted them.

Y/N was at the front of the line, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket and mouth pressed into a thin line. The line behind her was unlike he’d ever seen it. No waving arms, no smiles, no giggles. Twenty small bodies followed behind her with absolute and total solemnity, and he felt uncomfortable just watching them. It would have almost been funny if it wasn’t so dramatically out of character.

The line weaved around the more rambunctious classes, maintaining their grave expressions and quiet pace. They reached their spot on the sidewalk, and Y/N didn’t even have to say anything. Spencer watched as the line took their spots behind her. She held one hand up to acknowledge parents as they pulled up, murmuring stoic goodbyes to students as they headed to their vehicles.

He hung back at the hood of the car until the majority of the class was gone, slowly making his way across the parking lot. Y/N’s line of sight was pointed in his direction, but her eyes were unfocused in the afternoon sun. He could see the moment that she registered his presence, her eyes widening slightly and bottom lip releasing from the place she’d been absentmindedly chewing. She shifted her weight as he closed the final few feet between them.

“Hi.” She held a silent hand up in greeting. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Rough day?”

“It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, despite what everyone thinks,” she snapped. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to the perfectly blue sky, mocking her mood. “I’m sorry. Yes, it was a rough day.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“You don’t deserve my wrath.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the students. “They didn’t either, but— too late for that.”

He watched as she lowered her head back down, rubbing a hand over her face. He desperately wanted to slay whatever dragons had given her normally brilliant eyes such a grey cast. “You have strong relationships with them, and kids are resilient. I’m sure they know you—”

“Please— don’t.” Her voice was thick, and she looked at him with desperate eyes. “I— I appreciate the thought, but I’m— I’m a frustrated crier.” Her shining irises proved her point. “And I’m just— I’m really just trying to keep it together for the last four minutes of my contract time.” Her words were practically a whisper, and she swallowed thickly and glanced down the line, just Michael and one classmate left, eyes downcast.

“I understand.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out and touching her. “I’m sorry. I— I hope your weekend is better than today.”

Michael slowly left the line, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Y/N. Spencer put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the car, stealing one last glance at a crushed Y/N.

...

Y/N Y/L/N

Re: Re: Volunteering

Hi,

I meant to respond to this email, and then a bunch of things happened, and then I was out all week.

I don’t know if you even still want to volunteer after this afternoon, but it felt rude to not respond at all.

I’ve attached the background check form to this email in case you’re still interested.

Y/N

1 Attachment: Background Check

—

Hi,

I meant what I said this afternoon. Your students love you, and they know you love them. If my conversation with Michael in the car was any indication, they’re feeling rightfully embarrassed and guilty about their behavior while you were out.

Regardless of what happened today, your relationships with your students are strong enough that they will come to school tomorrow knowing that you still care about them. Children don’t hold onto things nearly as much as adults.

It would be a privilege to volunteer in your classroom, even on the worst day.

Spencer

1 Attachment: Background Check - Spencer Reid

—

If I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.

Thanks for that.

No sarcasm intended. Really. Thank you.

—

This might be inappropriate, and if it is, please just pretend like this email doesn’t exist.

I have a favorite cafe in the DuPont circle area, Soho Tea & Coffee. They have an excellent tea drink made with honey and milk that I like to order whenever I’ve had a particularly difficult day.

If you’re up for it, it’s on me.

———

Tags: @spacedikut @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @90spumkin @blameitonthenight21 @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @rainsong01 @meowiemari @mrsmyaweasley @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @coffeeandendlesswords @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @sapphic-prentiss @danifaithkae @saspencereid @heyitssomegirl101

Permanent tags: @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855

#spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes #TMSIDK

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tokyoghoose · 4 years

Text

am i more than you bargained for?

pairing: tetsuro kuroo x reader

playlist: heather - conan gray*, 4ever - clairo, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, melting - kali uchis, slow dancing in the dark - joji, using you - mars argo, she - ed sheeran, make you feel my love - adele, letter home - childish gambino, she's casual - the hunna, i love you so - the walters, notice me (acoustic) - role model, red dress - postcard boy

warnings: angst and lots of it, mentions of sex, mentions self-shaming of image, very breif mention of anxiety attacks

summary: a romantic comedy without the comedy between friends with benefits

announcements!

kuroo is definitely a little ooc in this lmao buuuut this is my first like fic fic in like two years. Im still trying to get back in the groove of things and finding how to write personality again and not be repetitive with my wording. Feedback is welcome!

requests are open! feel free to send them in! i will write for pretty much any anime ive seen and if i haven't seen it, ill watch it! the only reasons i wouldn't is if im uncomfortable or can't write the character. :)

——————

When did relationships become so difficult? The days of making friends on the playground were over and it seemed to hit everyone at the same age. Life was getting harder and people were getting older, and suddenly everything was difficult. Nothing came easy anymore and everyone had to adjust to that.

But now you were just confused.

Tetsuro kuroo stuck to you like glue since middle school. Where one of you went the other was likely to follow. The righthand man, the double trouble duo, and the bane of kenma's existence. And then things got complicated. Strangers to friends to best friends to lovers— friends with benefits. Who would've thought the boy that you played volleyball with on a whim would've become the man who you grew fond of. Sixth grade you would've kicked yourself for the feelings you're experiencing. Oh how you wished you were back in the park that started it all. You wished you could warn your youngerself what's to come.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and it made you want to throw up at the thought.

It started in the first year of highschool when you suddenly noticed the shine in his eyes when he talked passionately about something like volleyball or the way he would furrow his brows when concentrated on his assignments. At first it was endearing, really. But the more you hung around him, the stronger the butterflies felt. It was obvious that he had grown into his lanky body. His legs were proportionate to his torso now and his once scrawny arms didn't hang limply at his sides anymore. He had muscle and height now. Gradually you started to notice little things about him that you would never have seen in other people. Like his lopsidded smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes and brought heat to your cheeks, your stomach launching into your chest when he'd bump shoulders and laugh.

You should've just smacked yourself silly then and there when you started to wonder if he noticed little things about you. Does he think of me like i think of him?

Who knew feelings could be so...perplexing. You moved on, shrugging off the crush in your second year to catch bigger and better fish in the sea. Life moved on and you dated other people, simply remaining friends with kuroo. Little did you know one heartbreak would lead you into his bed, playing in the sheets by the end of the year.

He was just so damn compelling. His laughter and his jokes. You fell for it all over again. Deja vu. Stupid kuroo.

———

The third of highschool had been the breaking point. It was a constant cycle of feeling, fucking, and falling in and out of love with the raven haired boy. It was frustrating, especially when he was so damn oblivious. The only person that seemed to catch on was kenma, but he was very little help when it came to pushing away the domestic thoughts. It would never just work out because you wanted it to because tetsuro was dumb.

It's a chilly day out, the sun nice against your skin but the wind was drastic in comparison. Shivers are sent up and down your spine, you wrap your arms around yourself in a hug. Could this boy take any longer? Foot tapping against the pavement, you heave a sigh, nostils flaring impatiently before you spot the tall athlete. With a girl. A girl?

You'd seen her around before and you vaguely remember thinking she resembled the main love interest in a 90s movie or a bratz doll. She's pretty and has a light, airy laugh. Kuroo must've told her a joke of some kind, but he definitely wasn't funny enough for her to have her hands all over his chest. He's giving her a toothy grin and soft eyes. It makes you want to gag.

Who was she anyway?

Not that it mattered because in that moment the fit of rage your body suddenly flug itself into prevented you from hearing anything. Kuroo's pulling off his pullover and drapping it over the pretty girl's shoulders. You can feel your eye twitch and fibgers tingle. He looks bashful as he waves her goodbye and tragically, you don't feel nearly as pretty as you had been feeling. Now all you wanted to do was sink into the ground below you and possibly into another dimension—or at least the other side of the world.

"She's pretty," is the first thing that comes out of your mouth when he comes over, slouching with his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He had practice this afternoon, you remember. He looks over at you with raised brows, almost like he's surprised yoy said anything or even noticed he was talking to another girl before walking towards the gym with you trailing close behind.

"Yeah she is, I guess."

She's prettier than me.

"You guess? Kuroo, you gave her your sweater."

He shrugs sheepishly, a light pink dusting his cheeks and it makes you mad of uncharacteristic the act is. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"It's just polyester. It's not a big deal."

The conversation suddenly drops as you pause, apparently very hurt that he didn't remember it was you who gave him the sweater in the first place. He turns around, a questioning look on his face.

"What? Are you jealous?" He teases.

You're fuming at his attempt to be playful. Maybe you were overreacting, but it pangs your chest to know he can brush it off so easily.

" Kuroo, that was my sweater. "

It's gritted through your teeth, eyes slotted into a glare and his face drops. Oh is all he can think as he stares at you and the hurt expression that quickly turns into that of annoyance and anger. You push past him, ultimately deciding not to walk him to the gym. His arm reaches out to catch you, but it falls short as he calls out in a whine, "I'll get it back for you, okay? Come on, y/n!"

———

You can't focus on the assignments in front of you no matter how hard you try. You are exsausted. Just wanting to crawl under the covers and sleep for maybe a thousand years, you stop tapping your oen against the paper to hyperfocus on the black dots that now littered the page. The music in the background pauses before coming back to life with the hum of a new song shuffling in. It's quiet and yet, it's overwhelming. You wish you weren't home alone now.

Hanging your head low on your desk, the carpet becoming of interest, you groan. The image of kuroo and that girl replaying in your head over and over like an endless movie. You'd have to give it a bad review if it ever ended.

You're focus is mainly on her though. Kuroo could get any girl he wants with his witt and charm. Not to mention he wasn't jusf handsome, but he's beautiful. Model material—movie character love interest type beat. He has the ability to make any heart swoon if he tries hadd enough, and that girl was no exception. She was more than pretty. She was stunning, even. It was like watching human barbie and ken flirt with one another. She seems so nice too and you can vaguely remember her helping you wish a couple answers on homework one morning. She's better than you and better for him. Is he sleeping with her too? Before you can answer your own question the doorbell rings, quickly followed by a knock at your door.

You look down at your pajamas, debating if you should pull on your robe or not, but ultimately deciding against it when the knocks come again.

"Im coming, I'm coming. What do you wan- kuroo?"

When you open the door, you immediately get the urge to shut it right in his perfect little face, and you begin to before his hand slams against it in protest to push it open wider. He juts out his lip into a pout and his eyes soften into ones pleading like a puppy dog. You huff and avoid eye contact, instead taking intrest in the bad he was carrying.

"What's that?"

"Stuff. I'd be happy to show you if you let me in."

"Sorry, tetsuro, no can do. You haven't returned my sweater. "

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before shoving something bulky into your arms. You're not sure if you should be happy he actually got it back or upset that he had to see her again to get it. Finally looking up at him, you move to the side so he can step in.

"You know, you don't have to be jealous that i gave another girl a sweater. You're my number one, y/n." He's teasing, but his words still send the butterflies in your stomach crazy. You can only hope he means it, even if just a little.

"I'm not jealous. You can sleep with whoever you want, kuroo. We're just best friends—if anything im your wingman. "

You want to hit yourself on the head. Why would you say that?

He snickers at the rebuttle, coming to loom over you. Apparently the only thing that can get you out of your head is his cologne because it somehow invaded your senses. He smells expensive, like nice leather and fire wood during the winter. It's very manly, you note. His shadow hovers over yours as he traps you between him and the counter with a playful smirk on his face. How smug could he get. He leans down, bringing your chin up between his thumb and finger. You hadn't realized how close he was until now. Since when did you get so nervous around him? Why did it make you nervous when he kissed you all of a sudden? It's unfair that he holds the advantage. Heat rises to your cheeks and the tips of your ears and you're positive he can hear the beating of your heart, which was currently trying to break out of your chest.

His lips take you to paradise, as always. Their soft against your own, yet firm. They're slightly chapped and they taste like spearmint. It makes your head fuzzy because they feel so right, even when you wish they felt wrong. You want to pull away and kick him out, and end thjs whole arrangement, but you're already very familiar with the fact it's just beginning.

———

The bed is warm. So warm, in fact, it feels like your suffocating. The sheets tangle around your limbs, strangling you as you tangle your limbs around kuroos. You almost want to cry, and if you were anywhere else— with anyone else —you probably would have. The heat is unbearable and the one sided tension makes your stomach churn and your throat tighten up. You were almost positve an anxiety attack was coming on.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you close your eyes as kuroo's nimble fingers soothe circles into your shoulder blade idly and yet somehow he manages to dodge the purple and red splotches blooming on the flesh. Suddenly you wish you didn't feel so safe and protected in his embrace. The moment almost tempts you to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, but you don't deserve to be the person who does that because you aren't his person. Best friend, maybe (next to Kenma, if anything) but, you aren't his person no matter how you long to be. You're just a friend in his bed having a good time. It isn't as fun anymore.

You swallow a lump in your throat, flattening your hand against his broad chest and willing yourself to lift up out of his grasp, his fingers falling smoothly to stop between your shoulder blades. Looking down at him, he presents you with the soft, goofy look on his face that he always adorns. God, there's nothing you wouldn't give to wake up beside him every morning and kiss that lopsided grin off his face. It hurts to think about, and another wave of tears try to force their way past your lash line. You blink them away and put on a soft, one-sided smile for the man below you, giving him a quick peck where his jaw and neck meet before shrugging his hands off and climbing out of bed.

His eyes track you, lazily hooded and watching, as you take the sheet with you to cover yourself, grabbing your shorts and whatever top you were wearing but a few hours ago before everything was strewn about. You shy away from his gaze, but it's nothing he hasn't seen before. He shifts in the bed to face your back, elbow propped up to lay his head in his hand. With an uncharacteristically soft tone, you almosf don't head him when he speaks. The words that come from him are like honey, yet raw. It's enough to make anyones knees buckle and crawl back into bed.

"Are you okay?"

There's a slight hint of concern there, just hardlg scrapping the surface of the question. You nod with a hum, throwing on the loose shirt before facing him. Kuroo's brow raises like he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn't take the question further and instead turns to get out of bed. You gnaw at your lip, taking your turn to watch him stretch out. His back has red streaks messily placed down it from his shoulders to the base, his biceps matching. His hair is messy and not like the normal bed head he sports, parts of it are spiked up from fingers constantly pushing through it, while other parts are laid flat from sweat. You can't help the thought that he's sculpted by the gods. They definitely took their time on him. Scoffing at yourself and shaking the thoughts free from your head, you head to the bathroom. As if the bed wasn't suffocating enough, just being the same room was found to be worse when he looks like that. At this point, it was preferred he stayed under the covers.

You feel stupid while looking in the mirror. Your mascara from earlier had smudged beneath your waterline, clumping together in the corner. Your nose curls at the sight, hands splashing cool water at your face, rubbing at your eyes. With a sigh you lean your elbows on the sink, pushing back hair and looking down at the water going into the drain.

This is ridiculous.

How on earth could you do this to yourself and to kuroo?

There's a knock on the bathroom door, it's light and gentle in the typical kuroo fashion because he doesn't want to spook you. You purse your lips, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes and heaving a sigh. As soon as you open the door and switch places, you're up and out of his apartment without saying goodbye.

The cool air of outside hits your face and you hadn't noticed the tears until the damp chill shook you. Brushing them away, you head home. You didn't want to be around him and you certainly didn't want to think about him. On the way back, you finally decided you weren't going to tell him anything. What would dumb tetsuro know about it anyway.

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intubatedangel · 5 years

Text

Dead Drop - part 5

Anna was closest to the front of the crash cart, still stationed by Linh’s feet, so she spun to face the big red cabinet, and the defibrillator that sat on top. She grabbed the two black paddles from the sides of the defibrillator, taking them into one hand as she twisted the dial on the front of the machine around to 200. It began to charge, and as the whine built Anna grabbed the tube of conductive gel. She squirted a dollop onto the metal plate of one paddle with a raspberry like splurt, then rubbed the two paddles together, spreading the green tinged gel evenly across each surface.

The paddles ready, she turned to look at Carl, normally he would administer the shock, but he nodded slightly at Zainab. She was staring at the monitor. Anna glanced at the screen of the defib, the number rapidly climbing to 200, beeping as it reached a full charge. “Doctor,” she said towards Zainab, getting her attention. “Paddles are charged.” She held out the rectangles with one hand, careful to avoid touching the metal plates.

The junior doctors often balked slightly the first time they were handed to the paddles, but not Zainab. Carl’s encouragement had done the trick. She grabbed the paddles with confidence, “Hold compressions, everyone clear,” her voice was steady and as soon as Trish pulled her hands away the paddles were positioned on Linh’s chest, one above her left breast, the other on the ribs of her right side. Her head swivelled as she made sure everyone was clear, then she cast a quick glance at Carl. He nodded his approval. “Shocking!”

As the buttons were pressed the shock raced through Linh’s heart. Restrained as she was, her body twitched, straining against the Velcro straps for a moment. Zainab’s head snapped around to look at the monitor. The line had shot up from the defib, then settled back into the unorganised spikes of ventricular fibrillation. Linh’s heart was still quivering in her malnourished chest.

“No response.” Zainab announced, chewing on her lip. “Ok, resume compressions, push another epi and let’s get that airway secure with an i-gel. Size 3.”

Anna pulled open the airway drawer, grabbing the yellow coloured airway and passing it over. She then drew another round of epi and handed it to Sara. Zainab tore open the i-gel packaging, used the included sachet of lubricant on the tip and spine of the rubbery airway, spreading it with a gloved finger, then moved to Linh’s head. She allowed Kirstie to give the Asian woman another breath from the ambu bag then slid in to place. She tilted Linh’s head back, thrusting her jaw open, then inserted the airway. In a smooth motion she pushed it down along the hard palate, sliding it into Linh’s throat where it seated itself perfectly over the opening to her trachea.

Trish paused compressions, panting slightly, as Carl used his stethoscope to check the tube placement as Kirstie squeezed the now connected bag. Seeing her colleague becoming tired, Anna stepped up and wordlessly offered to take over. Trish agreed, stepping away from the bed. Anna took up position on the step, lacing her fingers together in preparation.

“Good placement.” Carl said, smiling at Zainab. She nodded to Anna, who lowered her hands into position. She locked her shoulders and elbows, using the height advantage of the step to shift her weight forward, forcing her hands, and Linh’s sternum, down almost 3 inches. She was surprised by how easily the patient’s ribs relented, adjusting her motion slightly to keep the compressions to an effective 2 inches.

“Ok, we’re coming up on two minutes, let’s do a rhythm check.” Zainab said. Anna stopped compressing, letting her hands linger on Linh’s sternum as everyone watched the monitor. The interference from her compressions ceased, replaced by the continuing v-fib trace. “Charge to 300.” Zainab ordered, Anna pushing down again while the defib charged.

Anna watched Linh’s head bob from side to side as her compressions shook the girl’s body. Her head was restrained slightly by the ambu-bag in Kirstie’s hands, connected to end of the i-gel above the thick bit block that filled Linh’s mouth. When Anna saw Kirstie disconnect the bag she knew the paddles were charged. She lifted her hands, leaning back and keeping clear as Zainab lowered the paddles onto the gelled spots.

“All clear, shocking!”

Anna felt herself tense slightly as the shock caused Linh to press against the straps again. She forced the tingling in the back of her mind away. Now was not the time. She glanced at the monitor. It had returned to v-fib. Zainab was shaking her head. “Still nothing… epi and amiodarone, let’s shock again in one minute.” She didn’t need to tell Anna to resume compressions, as soon as the v-fib had become evident on the monitor her hands had returned to Linh’s chest, pounding on the young woman’s sternum.

Having fallen into the rhythm of crushing Linh’s chest, Anna started to glance around. Jess had taken her place near the bottom of the gurney, working the drug drawer of the crash cart. Roger was behind it, recording the details of the code. Kirstie remained at Linh’s head, providing oxygen. Sara was administering the drugs Jess handed her. Trish had retreated slightly, recovering from the minutes of compressions she had administered. Carl was stood nearby, observing as Zainab ran the code. He smiled softly as Anna met his gaze. She wondered if he’d seen the way she tensed during the defib.

“Lab results!” Trish shouted; her voice still slightly strained as she paid off the oxygen debt. She was pointing to the large touchscreen on the wall. A window had opened over the repeat of the ecg monitor, Anna could see the text arranged in columns, two or three values highlighted in red, but couldn’t make out any details. Carl walked over and began analysing the results intently.

After a moment he turned. “Doctor Patel.” He waved Zainab over, stepping back slightly to let her look over the results. She cursed in the language of her parents.

“Glucose and Potassium are the greatest concerns.” Zainab turned to the nursing team. “Let’s push a small dose of potassium straight, then hang IV solutions of each. Hold off on the defib until the potassium circulates.”

The other nurses followed their orders, Anna keeping up the steady and rapid compressions. She started to feel hopeful, glancing at the clock. It had only been 8 minutes since Linh’s heart had stopped in front of the hospital. They now knew the likely cause of cardiac arrest; despite all the red herrings the young woman had presented with. Anna thought of the seizure, the opiates, the abdominal bruising. In the end it had been the malnourishment that had actually stopped the pump in Linh’s chest. Now they had to fix it.

Anna could feel the sweat starting to prickle her forehead from the exertion, but she wasn’t anywhere near her limit yet. She kept forcing her hands down, forcing Linh’s abdomen to bulge against the straps of the backboard, while the concentrated potassium was pushed into the IV. Trish went to a chilled cupboard in the corner grabbing the IV bags of glucose and potassium solutions. They were hooked up while the direct potassium was circulated through Linh’s body from the central line.

“That should be long enough, get ready to shock her again, we’ll go with 360 this time.” Zainab told them.

Anna maintained the compressions as the paddles charged, watching the two squares of glistening green gel. They clung to Linh’s chest, reflecting the light of the resus suite in a shifting pattern as her chest shifted under the compressions. As soon as the black paddles entered her field of vision she pulled away.

“All clear, shocking!”

Linh pressed hard against the straps, then fell back with a soft thump. There was silence for a moment that seemed to last for ages.

Then there was a beep.

***

I’m away this weekend, so just want to let everyone know that the next part will be a few days later then usual. I’ll try my best not to leave you all hanging too long.

***

Part 1: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183971918377/dead-drop-part-1

Part 2: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/184106937832/dead-drop-part-2-version-2

Part 3: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/184162594552/deap-drop-part-3

Part 4: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/184201839977/dead-drop-part-4

Barista’s Bad Heart: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183863814312/baristas-bad-heart-collected-links

Intermission 1: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183900250412/the-doctor-and-his-patient-nurse-intermission-1

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

ask you destiny to dance [7] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“What did you do? Ash is more pissed at you than usual.” Brian’s looking covertly between Ash wiping glasses at the bar, and Roger, adjusting the height of his high hats a few weeks after he’d confronted her about August. She hadn’t spoken to him directly since then, but the other band members were starting to catch on.

“I didn’t do anything-” Roger tries to protest, but Freddie’s laugh cuts him off.

“He made a comment about Pocket Rocket’s dear friend.” Freddie adds, having adapted to the nickname with ease, an amused smile on his face as he looks at Roger over his shoulder.

“You mean her boyfriend.” Roger snaps, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ash tense at the bar, giving away her eavesdropping, though he didn’t call her out on it.

“Ash isn’t dating that guy, he’s like forty.” Brian laughed, but Roger caught the way Freddie’s expression darkened, though he didn’t dwell on it, and Roger’s own smile became knowing and bitter.

“Yeah, listen Bri, I know what I said.” He responded venomously, and the mood around them sobered considerably. “I don’t like him, okay, he’s too old for her,” after a beat, he wrinkled his nose, “got a dickhead aura.”

“You’ve met him once.” John points out, trying to lighten the aura. Roger just bristled at the statement.

“Rog is just fond of her,” Freddie cuts in, voice a little condescending, smile mischievous, “let him be jealous, it might take him down a peg or two.”

“I’m not bloody jealous of that creep!” After a beat of feeling particularly hurt, and Freddie’s commenting hitting a little too close to home, he hears himself lashing out, “And how low do you think my standards really are, Freds?” And that shocked Freddie into silence, eyes wide and disbelieving, his eyebrows raised, as he turned away, jaw clenched.

“You really are just trying to burn that bridge while we’re standing on it, aren’t you?” Brian shook his head, sighing heavily as he went back to his guitar.

“Roger,” John said carefully, coming over to speak quietly to the drummer, as the rest of the band turned away, uncomfortable, “let me get the drinks tonight.” And it’s not what he expected to hear, but when he looks to John, John’s looking over at the bar. Ash is making direct eye contact with him, her customer service smile looking mostly threatening as she keeps polishing the same spot on a glass. “Because that woman is going to spit in all of your drinks and make you watch.” John explains, now looking to Roger, who’s expression was carefully neutral, trying not to betray his own anger at himself. “And as much as I love our dear Pocket Rocket, it’s not something I particularly want.”

She’s definitely gone back to hating him, and he didn’t realise how much it would hurt.

The worst part is that she’s so damn happy around everyone else, and he hates himself for being hurt by that. He’s angry, but not at her (never at her, not for something like this) he’s angry because he sees the way she smiles at him from behind the bar, and he sees the way August spends more time looking at the girls in the crowd, though she can’t even tell from where she’s standing. Roger’s angry because she fucking gushes about August - “He’s just made tenure!” - and yet he won’t even touch her if there’s someone else around. He’s livid because she’s so clearly in love with him, but she still can’t bring herself to tell the others his name because she knows - knows - something’s up with August, even if she doesn’t want to admit it, even if the others can’t see it.

Except that’s not the reason she doesn’t say his name.

“He’s here at every show, we should say thank you.” Brian tries after a gig, talking mainly to Roger and John, as Freddie had been giggling with Mary, the two of them in their own little world. Ash is nowhere to be seen. Roger takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Heaps of people are fans of us, it doesn’t mean we have to personally thank them every time.” Roger scoffed, but Brian made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like he disagreed.

“It’s a show of good faith, we should at least shake hands with-” and he paused for a moment, brow furrowing, “what’d she say his name was again?”

“Doctor Reid, if I recall.” John piped up, and Brian shifted his weight, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, but what’s his first name? That sounds so formal, like, ‘Oh, can I grab you a beer Doctor Reid?’” He put on a voice, laughing at his own joke, looking to John, who just shrugged helplessly.

“August.” Roger’s voice is very quiet, hunched in on himself sitting in the back of the van. Brian frowns, leaning in a little, confused as to both how Roger has kept this for so long, and what the name actually was. “His name’s August.” Roger repeated, voice heavy but louder this time. Freddie freezes. “She calls him Gus.” He adds.

“You’re joking, right?” Freddie says into the uncertain silence, and that’s the moment that the back door comes crashing open and Ash comes out, grinning, hands in her pockets.

“Hey guys,” she grinned, nodding at them, not even sparing Roger a glace, “could I have my jacket back? You can drop the pants back tomorrow if you like.” Freddie turns to her, eyes wide, disbelieving smile still frozen almost painfully onto his face, not removing the oversized, blood red velour button down shirt Freddie had been wearing over a black singlet.

“Is that man we keep seeing Gus?” He asked, voice scarily neutral. None of the others had ever heard him like this, had barely heard Freddie genuinely angry like this, and Ash’s expression dropped.

“I’ve gotta go.” It’s not the answer any of them expect, nor is Ash turning on her heel and heading back into the pub before the door had even swung fully shut. Turning back to the band, they could all see that Freddie was livid.

“I’m going to gut the bastard. Gut him like a goddamn fish, I swear I will.” He seethed, hands curling and uncurling into fists, staring at the gravel. It was as if the air around him was snapping with the electricity of a storm. Looking up, all Freddie could see was how shocked the others were, even Roger, and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to calm down.

“That’s the bastard that ruined her life.” He admitted through clenched teeth. “Roger’s fucking right, the man’s no good.” And Roger couldn’t even take the moment to bask in the vindication that would have usually surged through him at being told he was right, instead, his blood runs cold.

“He what?” Mary asked softly, and Freddie’s expression softened, looking finally between all of them, realising what he’d said.

“He’s the reason she was expelled from her last university, and...” Frowning, Freddie shakes his head. Brian, John, and Mary all took a moment to process this new information, shock written all over their faces. “It’s not my place,” and he started on a new strand of information, “he was her teacher, he started a clandestine affair with her when she started university, and,” pausing again, he sighed, the anger still clearly flowing through him, though it had simmered down to a bitter rage, “not my place.” He repeated.

“Doesn’t he have a wife and family? How old was she?” Brian asked, a little aghast, and Freddie sighed.

“She was eighteen.” Freddie sighed.

“She was a kid.” Roger breathed, anger bubbling up inside of him.

“Hey, that’s only a year younger than me.” John pointed out, but Roger turned on him.

“Oh, I’m sorry John, are you having an affair with one of your teachers that we need to stage an intervention for?” He snapped, and John’s face fell, and he looked to the ground.

“I’m just saying she was an adult is all, doesn’t make it right, but she can make her own choices.” He paused. “She seems happy.” Both Freddie and Roger deflated at that, they’re all quiet for a long moment, and without a word, Freddie heads inside.

“Ash.” When he says her name, she looks up with an expression that tells him she’s ready to fight.

“He’s different now, Freddie.” She tells him, already defending herself and the man who she knows in her heart probably doesn’t deserve it. Freddie was ready to fight him the moment he heard August’s name, and he didn’t even know the full story. Sure he could gather the impact it had on Ash, but he never really truly realised the effect August had on her.

“What does that mean, Ash? What exactly is keeping me from coming over here and beating him bloody with my microphone next time we play here?” Freddie asked, voice very serious. Pulling off her apron, Ash told Maureen, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, that she was knocking off for the night, which Maureen agreed to, and Ash walked around the bar and took Freddie’s hand.

“We’re not having this conversation here.” She hissed, pulling him into the staff bathroom and locking it behind them. “I love him.” She said through gritted teeth, crossing her hands over her chest, looking away. “And after everything I did, I think he still loves me too.”

“After everything you- Ash do you hear yourself?” Freddie takes a deep breath, steadying himself, holding her shoulders, “He start an affair with you, his student, refuse to be seen with you in public, and used his power within the faculty to kick you out of school when you wanted to stop-”

“I only wanted to stop because I found out he was engaged when his fiance found out about me!” Ash cried, as if it were somehow her fault. Freddie actually stepped back.

“Found out about you- He was engaged?!” He whispered, eyes wide and horrified. “Darling that’s nowhere near being your fault. He had a whole town calling you a slut and a homewrecker; he didn’t love you, he ran you out of Scotland.”

“He ran me out of Fife.” She spits back the correction. “I would know, I was there.” But she doesn’t seem to connect to the words he’s saying, it’s as if she’s replayed the events in her head so many times that she’s become desensitised to it. “But he’s changed, I was practically a kid last time, I’m different now too. And if he didn’t love me then,” she looks a little hurt as she says it, and Freddie doesn’t know if he wants to hug her or shake some sense into her, “well I think he does now.” After a beat she ducked her gaze, voice becoming a weary sigh as she leaned against the counter. “Listen, Freds, I’ll keep him out of the bar, you won’t have to see him, but this is my life.”

“Don’t make the same mistake again-”

“He’s told me that Kira’s his ex-fiance, so I don’t think she’ll be a problem.” Ash rolled her eyes at Freddie, who opened his mouth to protest that that wasn’t the point, but she added. “Can you get Roger to shut up? I’m sick of hearing him bitching.”

“Did something happen between you two?” Is what Freddie finally finds himself asking.

“I could get used to this.” Roger grins at her when she brings him a cup of tea in the warm light of the late morning, a book under one of her arms. She keeps using the mug with the cat faces on it for him, he’s started calling it ‘his mug’ and maybe she’s started calling it that too in her mind.

“Yeah, well don’t. You can get your own tea next time.” Ash laughed, sitting up beside in bed, cradling her own tea in one hand, pulling out the book with the other.

“Just show me where everything is, I think I could manage.” Roger chuckles, putting his free arm around her where she’s sat back against the headboard. “What are you reading?” Looking at him with a little surprise, Ash smiles slightly, taking a big gulp of tea, putting the mostly full cup on the bedside table before tucking herself against him, opening up the book.

“I found it in the common room, it’s one of those trashy romance novels,” after a beat, she closed the book, keeping her place with her finger, showing him the cover, where a woman was posing sensuously with a hand on a beautifully painted horse, “but I think she fucks the horse.” Roger snorts at that, his arm tightening around her just a little.

He doesn’t have an answer, just laughs, reading with her when she opens the book back up. It’s soft and domestic, her head on his chest as they both read the novella, sipping their tea on occasion. The blinds are down, but there’s still stripes of light peeking through, hitting the floor with golden light and the room feels warm and hazy. They stay like that for a long while, Roger actually becomes rather engrossed in the story, and when Ash shifts to lean over and take a sip of her tea, he takes the book to read ahead a few lines. When she turns back, she just watches him for a moment, a fond smile slowly spreading over her face, and when he finally looks up, realised he was caught, she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, sweet, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, and when she pulls back, he’s smiling back at her, a little confused.

“What was that for?” He grinned, and Ash shrugged, ducking her head to hide her blush.

“I dunno, maybe the book got me going.” She lied easily, and Roger’s expression turns a little unreadable, though it’s clear he doesn’t believe her.

“We weren’t even up to the hot part!” He countered, and Ash laughed, taking the book from him, but he stays holding it, lets himself be pulled with it until he’s meeting her for a kiss, his hand on her wrist when he lets go of the book to move up her arm and start sliding off her dressing gown. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Yeah, Ash had thought, I could get used to this.

“Hello, Ash?” In the present, Freddie waves a hand in front of her face. Ash’s expression soured as her chest began to ache.

“No, okay? Nothing happened between us, Freddie. Roger’s just being a bitch.”

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee@smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings@2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times@heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues @banhbao329 @fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric @rogmobile @cardybenhardy

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #freddie mercury #borhap imagine #brian may #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #queen imagine #john deacon #ask your destiny to dance fic #mary austin #the angry lizard writes

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j-axxie · 5 years

Text

Intertwined [prologue.]

Thanks to the JSE Sleepover Togethertube for giving me the motivation to finish this and giving me the confidence to post this, so thanks, guys. :)!

tw: blood, gore, attempted murder (ig?), mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, scars, stitches. (let me know if there's more !)

As I came home, I was prepared to be met by my mother shrieking her head off at me for being late. But instead I was met by silence, I shut the door as slow as I could. Was my mother sleeping? She'd be pissed if I woke her up and I had school tomorrow, I didn't need more bruises and sore spots. I made my way to my room when I saw a bright red light in my brother's room. I had bought him some LED lights for his birthday, and fitted them around the top of his room... was he using them?

"Gray? Are you home?" I said softly, setting my bag down in the hall as I wandered towards his room. The door slammed as if the wind pushed it and I took a few steps back.

"Sammy!" Someone cried from inside. I ran to my bag and unzipped it, frantically grabbing a textbook I body-slammed in Grayson's door, holding the book like a weapon. He was on the ground, his arm bleeding heavily, coughing up a storm. I watched as his computer glitched and then shut off, The LED's shifted to white as I kneeled down and pulled him into my lap, I raced to rip my jacket off and sinched my brother's arm. He was ten, who had assaulted him? He was in a state of hysteria and I felt a pang in my heart, this poor boy.

"Sammy... Sammy, get Henrik. Please." His voice was strained and panicked, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and absentmindedly clicked the numbers I knew by heart. I let Grayson hold the phone in his good arm, as I held my hand to his neck, and the back of my jacket to his arm. His neck was cut as well, this one was clean however, unlike the ragged one on his arm.

"Hello?" Henrik's voice was tired, he sounded drained.

"Mother Hen," I said in a soft voice, making Grayson laugh. Then burst into a fit of coughs.

"Are you two alright? Sick again?" He questioned. I heard shuffling as if he was grabbing a paper,

"Worse.." I said, "Gray was attacked."

"What?" Henrik said, all the sudden the computer glitched again and Grayson shrieked, I grabbed the textbook and watched as a man slipped out of the computer. This is something I'd expect to see in a movie.

"Who are you." I snarled, clutching a shaking Grayson to my stomach. "What a shame, I didn't know there were two Brody kids." The male drew a knife and I grabbed the book tighter. It was my only weapon and I had no idea how to fight.

"Who are you!" I said louder, trying to be menacing.

"Anti." His voice was breaking but I could tell it wasn't on accident, he was glitching like static and I felt dread run through my body. What was he doing to my brain that was causing me to panic like this?

"Anti? What are you against, hmm? Children?" I snapped, feeling a rush of adrenaline and defensiveness over my brother.

"I'm against your father, actually." He kneeled down to meet my height and hoisted my chin with the tip of his knife. I could feel it slowly piercing my skin. I snorted, gritting my teeth.

"How's it feel, Sammy?" Anti murmured, grinning and showing me what looked like fangs.

"It hurts but I've felt worse." I snapped, staring him down as my grip on the book, and Grayson's arm, toughened a bit. He held his neck and the phone.

"By who?" Anti giggled, slipping the knife out slowly. I didn't even flinch.

"My mother," I replied, raising the book while he was puzzled and slamming it into his face as hard I could. He crumpled to the ground and his knife flung at me, I wasn't sure where I was hit. My adrenaline covered my horror and my discomfort as I lifted my left hand to see blood.

"Samantha!" I heard someone yell from downstairs, I didn't move. I was worried Anti would wake up, or I'd move the knife my body was trying so hard to neglect. I felt my eyelids sag as the footsteps moved closer. I was tired. Why was I tired? Did I use up all my energy?

"Samantha! Grayson!" The familiar accent shouted, but I just fell onto my side. My eyes sealing.

I woke up in a frenzy, I flung upwards and grabbed at my lap. Nothing was there. Where was Grayson? Oh my god did I lose him? I heard loud beeping and ringing in my ears, my left side, and left arm hurt as well as my chin. My brain was racing, who was Anti? Why did he not like my father? Where was I now? Why did it smell like metal? I heard the beeping speed up and then a clank, metal against metal that caused me to turn my head.

"Sean?" I asked, the beeping dropped and I finally was able to unwind. Seeing a familiar face calmed me, and I was now able to take in my surroundings. I was in what looked to be a hospital. I noticed a section of the room directly across from us that was protected by pale blue curtains. Looking to my left slowly I saw various wires and machines hooked up to me, as my eyes followed the IV line to my arm I noticed my whole forearm was bandaged, all the way up to my first knuckle, I then checked myself for injuries. My side was bandaged the same way as my arm, and as I felt my chin I noticed a bandage there too. I was in a different outfit now, black sweatpants that were way too big and a baggy t-shirt. Neither belonged to me. Then I finally turned my attention back to Sean.

'Do you know BSL or ASL?' He signed to me, old middle school memories flooded my brain and I smiled.

'I know a little ASL, I'm fluent in BSL.' I signed back in BSL. Sean beamed and sat up fully,

'I assume you want an explanation?' My brain translated his sentence shortly after he finished. In Sign Language, not every word had a sign for it, so I needed to put the sentence together in my head.

'Yes, please.' I signed and Sean slowly moved through the story.

'Well, I woke up to Henrik laying you on the bed, he was drenched in blood and so were you. A nurse came in shortly after and held your arm wound closed while Henrik stitched your stomach back together, then Henrik told your Dad to go get you clothes and Henrik stitched your arm and your chin closed. A nurse came in and closed the curtain, and when she opened them you were changed and she was carrying away your bloody clothes. While the nurse was changing you, Henrik left and another nurse came in with Grayson, Henrik was stitching him up as they walked in. They closed the curtain, they're still back there. I don't know anything besides that.' Sean lowered his arms but then snapped them back up, 'Stacy and Chase are here though.'

'My mom is in a room with my dad? That's not good." I sighed, and Sean snickered softly. It was broken and soft, which was unlikely for Sean. I noticed a fading scar across his neck, but before I could press him for answers he began signing again.

'Marvin and Jackie are out there too so I doubt your Mom will try anything.' Sean took a sip of some drink on the table next to him, and I adjusted my seating to be more comfortable. We sat in silence for a few minutes, I watched my heart monitor, and Sean was texting on his phone. I heard the door open and a woman entered, I didn't watch her because I wasn't sure who she was. She sat down next to me and cleared her throat.

"Hey Samantha, I'm Angelia. I'm from the Brighton Police Child Study Team. I want to know what happened with you are your mother, to make it simple did she beat—" the lady was cut off.

"I told you to wait." Henrik snapped, glaring at her. The lady shifted uneasily, Henrik did look kind of like a criminal. Blood painted down the front of his jeans and a (what used to be) a blue knitted turtle neck. His hands were covered and he even had some on his cheeks.

"My shift is ending soon and I should.." she trailed off under Henrik's gaze and slowly, carefully grabbed her things and left the room. I huffed. "Well, it's good to see you, Henrik. Even if you look like you just murdered someone." I said softly, smiling. He ran his hand through his hair and complained about something under his breath.

"How are you feeling Sam?" Henrik said, checking my vitals on the screen. I shrugged.

"I'm a bit sore, sorry for worrying everyone. Grayson and I can go home anytime. Mom's gonna wonder what happened and-" I shifted restlessly. If they found out about my mom...

"Samantha we aren't sending you home." Henrik sighed softly, "We're gonna keep you here for as long as we can, then hopefully we can bring you to Sean's house with the rest of us."

"So with you, Marvin and Jackie?" I asked softly and well, I only got a mischevious smile from my 'uncle.'

"You haven't seen them in a while, and there's a new one." Henrik grinned. "Oh bloody hell," I whispered, laying back.

#blood tw #gore tw #hospital tw #domestic abuse tw #attempted murder tw #scars tw #stitches tw #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #henrik von schneeplestein #chase brody #stacy brody

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capmerthur · 5 years

Text

THE BODY SWAP

Summary: It’s all in the title :) Somewhere end S1 (after 1.11 Labyrinth, but pre 1.13 Morte). In a land of myth, and a time of magic, Arthur awakes inside Merlin’s body (and no, not in that way). Alternating Merthur POV, bonus Gaius, bit of George, mentions of Will.

Excerpt PART IV:

“I’m supposed to make the battle plans, Merlin? But as far as plans go, I have to admit this isn’t a bad one. Except I’m not you; I do not *fall* for no reason twice a day. So. I’ll make you fall. That’s more plausible.”

“No way! You’ll end up in the stocks!” Merlin realizes how - no matter what he might have been thinking just a few months ago - he simply doesn’t want Arthur in the stocks. Ever. “Which is NOT where you should be spending your afternoon.” Merlin quickly amends; hiding his concern under logic’s sake, knowing it to be the best way to persuade Arthur anyway. “So. You fall. I try to help you. But we both fall. I’m clumsy, as ever; you’re noble, as always; everyone get to laugh at me, and praise you; and your father might skip punishing me for you getting hurt in the process, as you obviously didn’t want me hurt to start with?” (pause, before adding) “If he doesn’t though, I’ll stand guard next to you.”

(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDERS CHAPTER IV)

IV. PLANNING (MERLIN POV)

Arthur, miraculously (even though understandably; because he must be shaken too, right), is unaware of Merlin's internal crisis as he shares what he's uncovered until now: "It seems to be just us. The kitcheners and the guards all seem to be themselves."

"So. Whoever has done this is targetting you - personnally."

"Nice to see your wits are still so very particularly sharp, Merlin. Is there any reason for the one behind all this to be targetting you?"

It is beyond odd to *hear* Arthur's usual tone in his own voice; but Merlin still has the grace to sigh, before pushing his point further: "But why you?"

"Well, obviously *you*'ve forgotten, but I am Camelot's Crown Prince, responsib-."

"Which is exactly what's bothering me!" Merlin can't help but interject. "Why take on the Prince when you can take on the King?"

"Oh... Do you think... Could someone be... training on us, then? Before attacking-"

"I honestly have no idea. Maybe you got targetted indeed because you're head of security. We shouldn't rule anything out."

Arthur brings his fist down on the table, determinedly: "Well, whatever the evil plan might be, we just cannot permit for it to work. We'll have to find a way to stop this nonsense - no offense. In the meantime, we must act as if nothing unusual is going on. It might be for the time being our best chance at keeping Camelot safe - making whoever planned this think the spell didn't work?"

Merlin can't help but let out a helpless (yet realistic) sigh: "That's... a lot; on both accounts."

Arthur echoes with a helpless sigh of his own: "I know."

But if they are to keep up pretenses, Merlin is going to need to be prepared: "So. What's on your agenda for today - besides the monthly open pleas this morning and the daily training this afternoon?"

"Nothing particular. And there are no coming feasts nor abroad visits planned for the coming time, thankfully. (worried sigh) But there's concil, tomorrow."

"Well, let's start at the beginning. I should do fine enough for the pleas. It's mostly your father's duty; your presence is required, of course, but mostly you're to hear and listen..." Fear grips Merlin at once: "But it's public; so it would be a great opportunity to try to murder you!" He MUST protect Arthur's body: "Will you please go fetch your chainmail in my room?"

"No."

The tone is definitive, and Merlin is torn between begging, or growing impatient - because Arthur can be so obtuse sometimes (now really isn't the time for Arthur feeling indignation about being ordered around like a simple servant; even though he *is* one at the moment - not that Merlin would ever think he was one, of course - but what if Arthur thinks he does and enjoys the chance at some payback?): "Arthur, please (again?). It's the expected type of errands of the body you momentarily (because it MUST be momentarily, right?) inhabit - I can't - You're the target. I need your chainmail. I have no fighting skills, nor any kind of skills really to protect yo-"

"I cannot be seen wandering the castle in my chainmail without reason, Merlin; it would attract attention", Arthur interrupts in a somehow gentler tone; and Merlin realizes that Arthur hadn't registered at first how Merlin's concern was about him, more than himself - and is obviously humbled by the thought. "Court clothes are required, anyway. We're not supposed to look threatening, nor threatened, when our subjects come to present their wishes," Arthur pursues, killing any possible protest in the bud. "Besides, the guards will be present. So don't worry too much about anything happening to us", Arthur ends in a lower voice; as if the last part had been more a thought to reassure himself than a phrase meant to be uttered - and Merlin just has to savour that precious 'us'...

Merlin though isn't reassured enough about his Prince's safety: "Please (yes, that's thrice; adamant much?) Sire, at least allow me to wear your thickest leather under your tunic" - willing his voice to make it sound like a not-to-be-denied demand more than a true question.

Arthur holds his gaze; and it actually feels like a blessing when he finally relents: "As you wish; but it won't be comfortable against naked skin."

"I'll manage." Merlin can't help but fidget some before pursuing - asking Arthur to do what is and should be *his* work feeling not only weird but even wrong: "But I'll need your help to tie it in the back?"

Arthur dimissively tousles his hair, grumbling: "I *know*, Merlin." 'My clothes' going unsaid.

Merlin can be relieved about one thing, at least: Arthur obviously isn't piqued about doing a servant's work...

Merlin picks out the largest fitting of Arthur's clothes. He puts on the braies and trousers while still wearing the gown, respectfully tying the belt blindly around his waist. He puts on socks, and shoes. Then only does he take the gown off, and turns his back towards Arthur so that he may help with adjusting the leather's straps.

A surprised but definitely pleased whisper ("Impressive, ain't I?") echoes in Merlin's ears, as the Prat Prince seems apparently unable not to comment about his damn broad back, angling Merlin shortly that way and this way as if to assess it even better.

'Believe me, I know', Merlin can't refrain from thinking; feeling a blush coming over his face, and thankful that Arthur is too busy looking at his own back to notice any of it.

"I think I might even have outgrown Sir Leon - in width at least if not in height", Arthur concludes proudly before finally starting to work the ties - leaving Merlin suddenly ashamed of his initial internal reprimand, and oddly upset. Of course Arthur would only wish to see in his physique the strength of a warrior. Of course his first thought, when finally able to actually see his own back, would be to compare it to his given models - the Knights; and most of all among them, to his own chosen model, Leon - both the noblest and strongest of them all, yet young enough to play the part of the older brother Arthur could look up to growing up... No one has probably ever told him that he is beautiful, Merlin realizes sadly. But the fact that Arthur is so unaware only makes him even more beautiful in Merlin's eyes...

Merlin forces himself to tease Arthur, hiding his turmoil under their usual banter: "Well, I could ask Gabriel to take measurements, if you so badly wish-"

"Shut up, Merlin", accompanied by a rewarding hit in the back of his right shoulder, which Merlin gladly revels in, no matter the unusual fist size. This, no matter their predicament, feels normal.

And in that short moment of normalcy, when everything just feels right as Arthur ends tying the leather, Merlin notices something he hasn't noticed before, when all he felt was STRESS.

Oh no.

"Arthur?" Merlin can't help but wince at the odd tone in his voice as he turns around; and Arthur is eyeing him now with furrowed eyebrows. "I think I need - I mean you need... to... have to go?"

Arthur makes a face - with his face; except it still looks somehow like a typical outraged Arthur face (damn, this is just too confusing...): "Merlin!"

"He! Do not look at me like this is my fault! It's *YOUR* body! Maybe you shouldn't have drun-"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have brought a full pitcher at dinner then!"

They eye each other, both unrelenting over who is at fault.

And Merlin can't help but think that somehow he is, indeed, no matter what. Because there are levels in intimacy; and he IS definitely crossing a line. There is a difference between being around and trying to avoid his gaze when Arthur walks in and out of his bath, or applying Gaius's healing balm to bruises on Arthur's back because it's a place Arthur can't reach on his own, and, well... watching and touching Arthur's manhood, even if only for urinating, technically ensuring no mess is done while doing it?

Arthur suddenly sighs though, and his voice sounds kinder as he offers: "This will surely happens a few times before we sort it all out, huh. To the both of us. So. How should we proceed?"

Merlin scratches his head, summoning some courage: "Do you want to... hold-"

"Your hand, Merlin!", Arthur demonstrates, lifting the would-be-culprit in the air and wiggling its fingers for good measure; and that's a 'No way' if Merlin ever heard one...

"Would you rather it to be your hand-"

"It's *your* hand right now!" Indeed. So. Another 'No way'.

But suddenly Merlin has a solution, of sort: "What if I... go sit into the stream? There's a quiet spot not so far from the castle, where Gaius collects herbs... If I hurry I still can make it back before the pleas."

Arthur actually claps his hands, obviously relieved: "Sometimes, I swear, you are a genius." He hurries over, handing Merlin his tunic and grabbing the Pendragon red doublet before marching out: "Let's go!"

"You're coming?" (while hurryingly putting the tunic on and grabbing a towel before following)

"Well, as I just said, it's bound to happen to me - you - so I might just as well tag along, and know where it is."

On their way to the torrent, they plan the day further.

"We HAVE to tell Gaius, at the least, about our situation: no one will contest his word if he says you're not to train for a while - because honestly how am I supposed to spare with your Knights? They will notice right away that something isn't right. And, well..."

Merlin hesitates, not wanting to incriminate Gaius in any way. He doesn't have to:

"You're right. Besides, Gaius has heard about a lot of... stuff, in all his years. I was planning to go around Jeffrey and look for the forbidden books, but I have no ideas how many volumes are hidden down here, nor where they even *are* to start with... If anyone we know might have even the slightest clue about how to fix our problem, it's him; even if it's only about finding an adequate book."

Merlin nods, relieved: "So. After the pleas, I stage a fall, and we go to Gaius, who tells you're not to train for the time being. That leaves the rest of the day free, both for looking up about our situation, and briefing me on what I should be aware of for tomorrow's concil. Do you address things in an established order; who's whose specialisms; what you discussed by the latest concils which might be brought up again tomorrow; and so on..."

"I'm supposed to make the battle plans, Merlin? But as far as plans go, I have to admit this isn't a bad one. Except I'm not you; I do not *fall* for no reason twice a day. So. I'll make you fall. That's more plausible."

"No way! You'll end up in the stocks!" Merlin realizes how - no matter what he might have been thinking just a few months ago - he simply doesn't want Arthur in the stocks. Ever. "Which is NOT where you should be spending your afternoon." Merlin quickly amends; hiding his concern under logic's sake, knowing it to be the best way to persuade Arthur anyway. "So. You fall. I try to help you. But we both fall. I'm clumsy, as ever; you're noble, as always; everyone get to laugh at me, and praise you; and your father might skip punishing me for you getting hurt in the process, as you obviously didn't want me hurt to start with?" (pause, before adding) "If he doesn't though, I'll stand guard next to you."

"Would you? Well, who knows, maybe I'll return the favor the next time."

"The next time?"

"I can't save you from my father's wrath every time; it's bound to happen, either from your two left foots or your snarky mouth."

They can hear the water now, and Arthur accelerates towards it, as Merlin lags behind, smiling:

"I guess I'm supposed to say 'thank you'?"

"I might have forgotten to mention that I'll probably throw something in your face myself at the last moment. Prince's privilege and all that..." - Arthur even turns towards him, giving him one of his goofy faces to boot (Merlin didn't know *his* face could do *that*, by the way).

Merlin just keeps on smiling anyway. He probably hasn't felt that brightly, positively, ridiculously happy since "I'm rehiring you - because someone needs to muck out my stables". Arthur has a particular way to express fondness, and Merlin wouldn't change it for the world.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS :

I. AWAKING (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur awakes; lying on his back - unusual - and rolls over automatically.

He surprisingly falls, down, hard; and jerks fully awake now - on the floor, near a so very tiny bed, tangled in an unknown blanket (harsher than his standards, even while on errands, he can’t help but notice).

In disbelief, he eyes his surroundings…

Where is he? Has he been abducted?

Think, he admonishes himself - trying to clear his mind; to remember what must have happened, to guess who has dared to commit such an act, and, most important of all right now: Find a way out.

His eyes then suddenly meet Merlin’s, and relief surges through him somehow - before his anxiety returns; and double: because poor faithful, loyal Merlin has obviously been taken too; and it’s Arthur’s fault - he must have failed to save them both from being taken, even though he cannot remember anything…

Except when Arthur reaches out to Merlin, he realizes with fright but indeniable certainty that Merlin is in fact a reflection in a mirror; and worse: *HIS* reflection!?

It his NOT his hand indeed that is stretching out in front of him; NOT his clothes on his person; and definitely NOT his own hair falling upon his eyes, as he notices the black strings in his vision range…

Arthur is dumbstruck. He sees Merlin’s mouth shaping a silent O, and he sees the dread in Merlin’s eyes… except they ARE - he feels - *his* mouth, and *his* eyes; and everything is just plainly wrong, and plainly impossible - but undeniably REAL.

He is… Merlin? Or better said, *inside* Merlin? How can such a thing have even come to be?

Sorcery, Arthur understands with horror: Camelot is under attack!

But now armed with the knowledge of his predicament, Arthur realises he is actually in Merlin’s bedroom. He’s been in here before, once; and he recognises it all now.

So. Not abducted. All things considered, that still counts as something, right…

And, as it surely doesn’t feel as if Merlin is still somewhere in his own head too while Arthur is inside of it, well… Maybe? Logically? Merlin might then be in return inside his own body?

Arthur suddenly finds himself praying for this to be true. It would be for the best, if Merlin was in his body - if they were the only ones concerned by this unnatural situation; because what if *everyone* was awaking inside someone else’s body this morning? That would be… precarious - the general panic leaving Camelot completely vulnerable to whoever must have plotted this? The worst though would be if the one responsible for this was right now in control of his body, and acting as Crown Prince to do, well, evil deeds… So yes, you bet Arthur truly wants to find Merlin to be the one inside his own body when he finally finds it.

Arthur jumps on his feet, ready for action. Luckily (even though Arthur feels a bit guilty, as he notices his armour in pristine state against the opposite wall - apparently Merlin has been polishing it late into the night then) Merlin hasn’t bothered to undress before falling asleep.

So. First thing first: he has to go to his chamber.

Picking some weapon on the way for good measure, you bet …

/ / /

Simply walking the few paces to open the door though turns out to be a challenge. His limbs are too long, and dangly; it feels like he has two left feet, and he has to try thrice before actually getting a grip on the handle - because he isn’t used to this body, of course - but maybe it is truly NOT Merlin’s fault if he falls over his own feet that often after all…

Gaius is already out - hopefully looking for herbs and not wandering out of his mind… Arthur would have preferred to be able to test right away his theories about how many people were affected by the damn body change; but unfortunately, it would have to wait some more.

The corridors are empty too, except for a stray black cat who walks at his side a full minute, which has Arthur questioning himself about asking to the cat if he *is* Merlin - because Merlin HAS to be somewhere, right, as he obviously isn’t where he should be to start with; but then the cat takes another turn… Arthur feels stupid for worrying so much about his silly manservant - but he cannot deny that he definitely will worry less only after having indeed finally found said silly manservant.

Arthur relaxes slighthly though when he enters the kitchen: people are working as usual, apparently not in shock, apparently in their right bodies. He picks up the first tray he finds, along with an extra knife that he hides in his pocket for good measure.

He tries to put on a confident grin as he walks (with the most assurance he can muster in this awkward-feeling body) towards the guards at his bedroom’s door - and can only hope it will look the same as usual to them. They let him pass without trouble, and Arthur isn’t sure it’s a good thing. On the one hand, he *doesn’t* doubt Merlin - he simply, intrinsically doesn’t; and would never want him to feel like he did if his guards were to search him whenever he was about to enter his chamber. On the other hand… well, it isn’t Merlin right now entering his chamber, with knifes at the ready… This time, it’s only him; but what if it happens again, and if the one then inside Merlin’s body has ill intentions…

Deciding not to dwell on this for the time being, Arthur opens the inside door to his bedroom, hoping to find Merlin doing whatever Merlin always does, but preparing for a fight, if need be…

II. AWAKING (MERLIN POV)

Merlin awakes as if in a cocoon; literally. He is surrounded by softness, flush, warmth; he cannot remember ever feeling so comfortable - and the world can wait for just another few seconds before he opens his eyes, right… Merlin wriggles, shifting on his back, sighing softly as he nestles some more into the cushions…

When Merlin awakes for the second time - culpability sinking in as he realizes he has overslept - his eyes open to a Pendragon red canopy he would recognize even among hundreds. Merlin freezes: what the hell is he doing, sleeping IN ARTHUR’S BED?!

Merlin sits upright at once - blankets falling all around him to reveal that he wears ARTHUR’S NIGHTGOWN too ?!

Whaaaaaaaat?!

This… just DOESN’T make any sense. The last thing he can remind is sitting on his own bed, polishing the last bit of Arthur’s armour before letting himself fall down to sleep (*AN). He surely doesn’t recall walking to Arthur’s chamber, and even less…

Oh my… What is Arthur going to think? And come to think of it - true panic now creeping down on Merlin at that thought: *WHERE* is Arthur to start with?

His attention is drawn out right then by Arthur calling out his name (Merlin feels relief, no matter his current embarrassing situation) - in one of those thousands yet unmistakably always Arthurian ways to say his name: a myriad of moods and meanings in those simple two syllables - the voice sounding odd though this morning (is Arthur sick?), and tensed (well, he just found his manservant in *his* bed, that might explain it!).

Merlin turns to face his sovereign, trying to feel less self conscious because he mustn’t look guilty, while wishing for inspiration, and buying time until it hits: “There is actually a perfectly valid explan-”

But it is NOT Arthur he sees: it is… himself? His breath catches as ‘utter confusion’ gets a new meaning, you bet…

At the same moment, Merlin notices suddenly just how *not his* his voice just sounded, and how he’s wearing a very particular ring around one finger of what’s NOT his hand, and how *blond* hair is falling upon his eyes… And still nothing makes sense; but at least it *does* explain how he awoke in Arthur’s bed in Arthur’s clothes: he *is* Arthur?; and… Arthur… is him? MUST be him. He has been calling him right the right way, right?!

“Arthur?” Merlin barely dares to breathe out, both in wonder and in plea (because Arthur CANNOT be gone - the fear and pain and simple *impossibility* of such a concept slicing through Merlin’s mind like a knife).

There is a bright smile then appearing on his face - a smile that doesn’t entirely look like his own though - “Yes, Merlin. It’s me,” followed by a relieved sigh: “And it’s you”. And, despite the shock about them having apparently switched bodies (?!?!), Merlin can’t help but feel warm all over - because Arthur (and yes, it is so clearly Arthur, even in HIS body!) has apparently been worried about him.

(*AN) Headcanon time :

Merlin uses magic to clean Arthur’s armour in the beginning, indeed. And he still uses magic for most of the chores, as much as he can, of course (washing clothes, mending clothes, emptying chamber pots, sweeping fireplaces, preparing baths, refreshing beds, cleaning floors, cleaning everything, really (except for mucking the stables, because there are always others around, grrrr). But he quickly grows nearly *maniac* about Arthur’s food (picking at it as a way to make sure it’s not poisoned etc…) and about Arthur’s armour: it’s one of Arthur’s protections - so you bet Merlin definitely cleans and polishes and repairs and oils the leather ligaments that hold it together and EVERYTHING the hell out of it, with extra ardor and fervor, with his own two hands, all the while continuously trying to put on it any protecting spells he ever finds, and repeating those over and over at each occasion…

Also: I know mirrors were not so advanced at the time… But Merlin has an enhanced one, after all he has magic right… And on a side note, I’m never going to be over Arthur’s priority-thinking (I’m in trouble = CAMELOT IS UNDER ATTACK (babyyyy let me hold you - being Camelot Prince/King is NOT your only worth) and Merlin’s priority-thinking (what the hell is happening = WHERE THE HELL IS ARTHUR (babyyyy let me hold you - your devotion to The (brave, kind, admirable (shut up Merlin)) Prat doesn’t have to mean that you always must come second (and a bit self-preservation cannot be harmful)) *SIGH* I just love those two idiots so much !!!

III. DISABLED (MERLIN POV)

But soon, Merlin is terrified.

And not because of the puzzling body swap.

*HE HAS NO MAGIC!?*

(Not that Merlin knows of any spell to reverse their current situation at once, mind you; so he doesn’t actually try anything about it. But Merlin simply knows: there is nothing but blood running through his veins now - no vigorous warmth, no energic flow; there is simply nothing singing under his placid flesh, as he focuses on it.)

He cannot help but wish he’s wrong though, and desperately tries to move a quill on Arthur’s desk behind Arthur’s back - the simplest of things, really; yet he fails, indeed…

His magic is tied to his body. Not to his mind.

No, no, no, no, nooooooooooo.

So. Merlin is, to his core, *terrified* - as he has never been. Not only because he feels more powerless and utterly helpless than he has ever felt - and worse, unable to protect Arthur! But also because the longer Arthur stays in his body, the more chances he has to find out that he has magic!? (And even though Merlin has nearly told Arthur, once? He is still not ready for him to know right now… Will after all didn’t lie to protect Merlin’s secret on his deathbed for Merlin to take chances with his life so soon after…)

Merlin though decides to push his panic aside for the moment: he simply MUST focus. No matter which sorcerer has this week decided to deal with the Pendragon line once and for all, Arthur’s life is undoubtedly in the balance; and that’s dearer to Merlin than all the magic in the world - included his own.

Because Merlin’s life *has* tilted, on that rocky beach by The Great Seas of Meredor.

Merlin’s earnest readiness to lay his life down to save Arthur’s had been instinctive, beyond doubt visceral; and the concrete force of the impulse had surprised him. Because it hadn’t been related to his first supposed then anyway indeed wished upon destiny. It had merely been a reflex, a spontaneous reaction: what he had wanted to do; more than what he ought to do. And Merlin had realized right then that he had, somehow, but undeniably, actually come to *LOVE* Arthur?

It shouldn’t have been such a shocking revelation though. Sure, Arthur could be a spoiled, royal prat; an irritating, pompous ass; an arrogant, moronic bully - to list but the top of the iceberg of his massive shortcomings, and without even mentioning the complete dollophead he could sometimes be. But Arthur could also be truly brave, honest, and kind; willing not only to trust but also to actually defend the words of mere servants, ready to defy his father’s orders in order to save a child’s life, and volunteering to help a village not even belonging to his Kingdom, to note only a few examples. Also: at some point, Merlin had realized how what could at first appear as near manhandling tactility was in fact just Arthur’s disguised way to show (or ask?) affection (because one probably just doesn’t walk around asking for cuddles while growing up between Uther’s judging cold glares and Morgana’s sharp witty tongue; and the physical playfulness of the knights training must have seemed like the only way to go…). And last but not least: Ealdor owed Arthur its renewed safety. And Merlin owed Arthur his life - if Arthur hadn’t gone looking for a Mortaeus flower… So, in short: of course Merlin had gotten fond of the man. Notwithstanding how so annoyingly beautiful he always was (for the record on that particular subject: Gwen is so adorably beautiful, and Morgana so petrifyingly beautiful).

But, as Arthur - bound to be King one day Arthur - hadn’t even hesitate before choosing to sacrifice himself in order to fix his error instead of using the (even offered) life of a simple servant? Well… There is a difference still between having the conviction that Arthur is a good man ready to fight for the greater good, even knowing it could be his death; and knowing as a FACT that Arthur *is* ready to die for the greater good, even knowing it *will* be his death. And you bet having been proven *exactly* how pure of heart Arthur intrinsically is has only cemented that burgeoning love deeper into Merlin’s heart - simply; truly; and maybe irrevocably. Merlin would now willingly die a thousands deaths to save his Prince.

(Feel free to shout with me about 1.11 because *MAJOR FEELS*!)

(And then hug me as I shamelessly cry because this is still NOTHING next to what’s to come - aka Arthur becoming ACHINGLY beautiful, as Merlin turns ready to KILL a thousands times to save his King, blackening his own heart in the process and thinking himself then unworthy of Arthur’s love because Arthur is just so BRIGHT; but wishing for it nonetheless?)

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #merlin fic #bbcmerlin #the once and future fic #the body swap #fanfic #fic #text #my own two spells

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pinkevilbobdoesthings · 5 years

Text

Okay, so this started out as a prompt from @everythingismusical for a bookstore and tattoo shop au and I kind of got carried away. Like 5 thousand words carried away.So there’s height difference and snowed in tropes throw in here and you know they have to cuddle to stay warm.

And here it is “Inventory Sucks”.

________________________________-

Jester groaned as she stretched. Inventory counts were the worst. It didn’t help that she told everyone that she could do it on her own. But, Beau finally managed to ask Yasha on a date and there was no way Jester was going to make them reschedule and Molly had worked overtime six days straight, so really Jester was doing herself a favor by telling him to go home.

It was nearing midnight and Jester was still in the tattoo shop and expected to be there for at least two more hours. At least there was no one around to complain about how loud her music was for once. She nearly turned it up again when the shop’s phone started to ring. Jester sighed as she turned down the music and answered the phone. “Traveler’s Tattoos! This is Jester! How can I help you?”

“Uh, yes, hello? This is Caleb Widogast from Pocket Books across the street?” He had a thick Zemnian accent. Jester looked out the window to see that the used bookstore still had its lights on too. It had started to snow, but it was just light fat flakes so far. Someone, Caleb, was by the window looking back at her.

“Oh yeah! I see you!” Jester waved at Caleb who cautiously waved back. “Is there a problem?”

It looked like Caleb shook his head, but he stopped. “No, actually, ja. Can I ask for your help? There’s something that I can’t do on my own and I’d rather not have to wait till tomorrow and I noticed that there are still people at your shop and maybe oneof you can come over?”

Jester gave it some thought. This could easily be a murder set up, but he didn’t know she was alone. “Sure. Just give me a moment.” She sent Molly a quick text while she put on her coat. -Hi Molly! Give me a call in half an hour and if i don’t answer assume that ive been murdered at the bookstore across the street. THNX!! <3<3<3-

She left lights on and locked the door behind her. Caleb already was holding the door open at Pocket Books. Jester had seen him coming and going from the shop, but had never seen him up close, so she just knew him as the guy with red hair and a cat that always rode his shoulders. Really, the main thing Jester noticed was the cat and how it always wore a little coat.

“Come in, it’s cold,” Caleb said. Together, Caleb and his cat looked about average size from across the street. But now face to face, it turned out he was close to half a head shorter than Jester. And his cat was the tiniest bengal she had ever seen. The fact of the matter was they were the cutest things Jester had ever seen. “Are you coming in?” he asked. “It’s snowing.”

“Oh, right!” Jester came in and Caleb closed the door behind them. Shaking the snow off her hair, she adjusted to the warm of being inside again. She’d never been in the book store before. It was brown and full of shelves that made all sorts of aisles and corridors. In front of one bookcase was a ladder on wheels. It took all of Jester’s willpower to not jump on it and ride it down the aisle. “So, what do you need help with?”

Caleb pointed at the top of the bookcase. There sat a little cluster of books. “Even with the ladder, I can’t reach them.” He looked down at the ground a blush growing on his face. “Usually I have one of the staff help me with that sort of thing, but all I got is Nott and we’re not repeating the book climbing incident,” he said very pointedly.

“Not? Or naught?” Jester asked confused.

“Nott spelled N-O-T-T,” said a voice behind Jester. Jester turned around to see a young woman even smaller than Caleb. She was wearing an oversized hoodie and was carrying some kind of flask. “And there was only one time that I knocked over a bookcase when I climbing it.”

Caleb glared at her. “Are you saying that you climbed up there more than once?”

Nott took a big swig from her flask and looked away.

“We’re going to save this discussion for later.” He turned back to Jester. “So, you’re, what, five seven, five eight?” Jester nodded. That was close enough to her height. “You should be able to reach those books then. After those, we’ll be done with inventory.”

“Lucky,” Jester said. “I’ve got a ton more to go through.”

“Oh, sorry. We’ll hurry up with this and then you can help the others at your shop,” Caleb said.

Jester rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, I’m kind of the only one doing the inventory tonight.”

“We can help,” Nott siad. “It’s only fair since you’re helping us.”

“I was looking forward to going to bed, but ja, it’s only fair,” Caleb said as he grabbed the ladder and pulled it into position. “There should be six books up there.”

It was easy for Jester to get all the books down. “Looks like there’s seven books.”

Caleb looked at the stack. “So that’s where Zemnian Nights went to. Thank you. We couldn’t have gotten an accurate count otherwise.”

“No problem,” Jester said as she went to scratch his cat’s chin.

“Um, please don’t,” Nott said. “Frumpkin’s on the job.” She pointed at Frumpkin’s little red coat. On the side it said “Service Animal - Do Not Touch”.

Jester shrunk back. “I’m sorry, I should’ve checked first.”

“It’s alright most service animals are dogs,” Caleb said with a hint of disdain in his voice. “People usually don’t think to check with cats.”

“What’s Frumpkin’s job?”

“He predicts death,” Nott said.

Jester’s eyes grew wide. “He knows who lives and die? Frumpkin, are you psychic? Does he know that future?”

Caleb sighed. “She means Frumpkin can tell when I’m sick and need to take my medicine or go to the hospital. Petting him distracts him from making sure I’m not dying.”

“Oh,” Jester said. “Frumpkin, I’m sorry I can’t pet you, but know that you’re amazing.”

Caleb chuckled. “Oh, he knows.”

Nott looked up between Jester and Caleb and smiled. “Welp, inventorying won’t get done on it’s own. I’ll finish up here and you two get started at the tattoo shop. Now get.” She practically pushed them out of the bookstore. The snow was already starting to build up outside.

“What has gotten into her?” Caleb asked out loud as they crossed the street. “Sorry, my sister can be a little … odd sometimes.”

“Oh, so you’re siblings. I was wondering if she was like your business partner or something.”

“Foster, but it counts. She helps out from time to time, but she has school to go to. Just the community college, but she’s getting A’s in all of her courses,” he said with a hint of pride.

Jester whistled. “She must be pretty smart.” She got out the keys and unlocked the door letting them in.

“She’s very clever,” Caleb said, but then he winced. “When she’s not climbing on shelves.”

“Oh, like you haven’t done anything that ridiculous when you were that age.”

“I’m not just going to let her do anything dangerous,” Caleb snapped. “Sorry, sorry. I just don’t want her doing anything I did during my twenties.”

Jester took off her coat and shook off the snow. “Were you a wild child Caleb? Beau says that your twenties are pointless if you’ve never been chased by cops.” Of course, she said that after she got them arrested and Jester was sobbing in a jail cell.

“Not so much wild as dumb.” Caleb kept his dark gloves on even after he took off his coat. “So where do we begin?”

“Right,” Jester said organizing her thoughts. She grabbed the checklist. “You go through the inks and I’ll take care of the needles since they’re a little complicated if you’re not used to them.”

Caleb nodded and methodically went through the ink cupboard reading out loud each label. Jester had to admit that it was a little distracting. “Is it okay if I turn some music on?”

“It’s your shop,” Caleb said. “Or at least you’re the one who works here.”

“Nah, I’m the owner,” Jester said proudly. True her mama paid for it, but Jester was the one who ran it and made it successful. “What about you? Do you own the Pocket Books?”

Caleb read out another label before answering her. “Ja, I bought it last year. I’ve always had a passion for books and wanted something that Nott could be proud of me for. What made you decide to own your own tattoo shop?”

“Well, everyone was all ‘oh Jester, you’re so good at art you should make a career of it’ and I was all ‘okay, I’ll do tattoos’ and then people were all ‘oh no, you shouldn’t do that’, so I was all ‘screw you, I’ll run the best tattoo shop ever’ and so I am now,” Jester explained. “What’s your opinion of Eurovision?”

Caleb stared at her for a moment. “My opinion of Eurovision will not be spoken of outside this room, will it?”

“No?”

“Turn it on,” Caleb said before going back to the inks.

Jester started with Abba and began counting the needles. Caleb’s reading of the ink took on the rhythm of Waterloo.

“Done,” Caleb said after nine songs. Jester was only half way through the needles.

“Did you get the ones in the upper cupboard too?”

Caleb looked up at the cupboard above the counter and his head. “No. Do you have a step stool?”

Jester paused. “I’ll get them down for you.” As Jester started pulling out the contents of the cupboard, the lights flickered overhead. She flinched at the sudden dark, but the lights returned steady.

“The wind sure is blowing out there,” Caleb said looking outside.

“Y-yeah,” Jester said trying to calm her nerves. “Maybe, this isn’t such a good idea after all. I can finish this tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

Jester nodded. “It’s really building up out there. I’d hate to get you trapped in here.” She also hated the idea of being trapped in there herself.

“I probably should be getting Nott home.” He frowned. “She should’ve finished our inventory by now.” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Nott, where are you?” Caleb sighed as he looked across the street. “Yes, I know you’re at the bookshop, but you were supposed to come over here when you’re done.” A pause. “Fine, we’ll talk about this later. Don’t bother coming out now though, we’re calling it quits. I don’t like the look of this storm. I’ll be over in-” A loud crash interrupted him and all the power went out.

A whimper came out of Jester’s mouth unbiddened. She checked her phone and found less than 20 percent of her battery was left, so she couldn’t use it as a flashlight. Clutching the counter and closing her eyes, Jester hoped that if her eyes were shut tight enough she could ignore how dark it was.

“The power pole was blown over and took out all the power with it,” Caleb said. “And it’s blocking the road so we’re trapped. Look, Nott I need you to stay put there.” He listened for a moment. “No, you can’t just cross the street. Those might be live wires out there. No, you can’t just jump over them! You’re going to have to wait till the power company takes care of it or confirms that the power lines aren’t dangerous.” Caleb covered his face with a hand. “No, yes, I’m worried about you too. There’s the emergency snack supply and probably a couple of blankets in the break room. The center’s probably the warmest, so stay in the cookbook section.” There was another pause. “Yes, I’ve got my medicine and I’ve got Frumpkin. You don’t need to worry about me. You just stay warm.” One more pause. “Ja, I love you too. Stay safe.” A sigh escaped Caleb as he turned off his phone.

“Um, can you turn your phone back on? You know, for light?” Jester asked hoping she didn’t sound too nervous.

“I’ll need to call the power company first,” Caleb said. “You’re not afraid of the dark are you?” Jester couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not.

Jester shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m fineEEEEEEE!” she screeched as the wind rattled the door.

“We should go in the back,” Caleb said. “It’ll be warmer away from the windows. You have flashlights here, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

Caleb sighed. “And I’m betting you don’t have any candles either.”

“We might actually? If we did, they’d be Molly’s.”

“We’ll replace them for her.”

Jester giggled. “He’ll appreciate that.”

“Ah, right.” Once they were in the back, Caleb set down his phone and pulled something out of his pocket. It might have been a lighter, but it was too dark to see. “Don’t tell Nott that I have this.” He peeled off his gloves and clicked on the lighter. Caleb stared at it for a moment almost mesmerized before handing it to Jester. “I, I’ll call about the power lines now.”

Jester held the lighter carefully as she searched Molly’s corner. He was always getting candles and stuff, so maybe he forgot something there. She dug around until she shoved in the back a few old tealights. “Got it!”

Caleb hung up his phone. “They won’t be able to do anything until tomorrow morning at the very earliest. Apparently there’s down power lines throughout the county.”

“So we’re stuck here,” Jester said trying her best not to freak out.

“Looks like it,” Caleb said. “I’m going to text Nott and then we can figure out what the heck we’re going to to do next.”

Jester lit two of the tealights and saved the rest for later. She handed Caleb his lighter after he finished his text, but he passed it back. “You keep it for now.”

“We should probably grab our coats,” Jester said. “It’s only going get colder.”

He followed her to the front and just stared out the window to the dark bookstore across the street.

“You’re worried about her aren’t you?”

Caleb nodded. “She’s all by herself and probably freezing. Smaller bodies tend to lose body heat faster.”

“Oh no! I hope she’s okay. Are you cold, Caleb?” Jester asked. “Cause you’re really tiny and scrawny too.”

“I’m fine.” Caleb moved back, but he grabbed his coat and put it on.

Jester wasn’t sure if she believed him, but she was not going to argue with him about it. “We should probably sleep soon.”

Caleb groaned. “You’re probably right. Do you think we can sleep on the tatoo chairs?”

“Not really.” Jester pulled a face at the thought of it. “There’s an old futon in back. It’s busted and you can’t sit on the left side of it, but we can move the cushion on the floor.”

“Sounds good to me,” Caleb said, but he didn’t seem pleased with the idea of it. “Do you have anything to eat here?”

“I’ve got pastries in my bag. Are you hungry?”

Caleb shook his head. “Not really, but I have to eat something with my medicine. Do you have anything not pastry? Anything gluten free?”

“Beau keeps jerky at her desk,” Jester said. “Are you on a diet? Cause you’re already really super skinny.”

“Ja, I’m on the ‘gluten makes my body try to kill my small intestine’ diet also known at celiac disease. I’ll pay her back for it.” Caleb started to go through his pockets and pull out all sorts of medicine bottles.

Jester went through Beau’s station(which was forbidden, but this was an emergency) and grabbed the jerky and a water bottle while she was at it.

Caleb carefully read the medicine bottles by the dim candlelight. “Danke. Be sure to keep the doors closed. I’m sorry for being a burden.”

“It’s okay. I’d probably just be panicking if I was all alone.” After closing the door, Jester pushed the futon cushion onto the floor and adjusted it to be in a good position. “So I should be thanking you.”

“It’s nothing.” He took a bite of jerky and gnawed on it.

“It’s not nothing to me. Can we leave the tealights on?”

Caleb swallowed his bite. “Only if you want the building to catch on fire.”

“Oh,” Jester said, but she ignored the dread building in her stomach. “It should be fine. I mean if we put out the lights. It’s not that dark.” That was a lie. It was that dark. Even with the little candles, it was way too dark.

Caleb popped a palm full of pills into his mouth and took a swig of water. “Alright, Frumpkin. You are now off duty.” He took the vest off of his cat. Frumpkin mewed headbutting Caleb. “I know that was way too long of a shift for you, but I’m all safe now.” Splitting the jerky in half, Caleb shared it with the cat. “You can pet him now.”

“Really?!” Jester scratched Frumpkin under the chin earning a purr. “Oh, Frumpkin, you are too cute and tiny.”

“He’s a good cat,” Caleb said. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

Caleb gestured at the futon. “Sleeping arrangement. Do we just trust that we’ll stay on our separate sides or do we need a barrier?”

“Sides?” Jester asked. “Um, I thought we were just going to share it.”

“Ja, but we can’t, you see, it’s,” Caleb sputtered. Jester was willing to bet that he was blushing a bright red by this point. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said so softly she could barely hear him.

“Oh, I’m perfectly comfortable,” Jester said. “But you’re shivering and it’s probably going to get colder. We’re going to have to cuddle.”

Caleb jumped back. “What?!”

“Two bodies together are warmer than one. Three if you count Frumpkin. We don’t have any blankets here, but I’ve got some towels which should help,” Jester said.

“We don’t even know each other,” Caleb said.

Jester poked his nose which was cold. “I know that you are freezing and have like no body fat. Now stop being stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn,” Caleb muttered. “You don’t have to do this for my sake. I’ll be fine.”

Jester gathered all the towels from the closet. “This isn’t the same as blankets, but I think it will help. It’s not just for your sake. I’m going to get cold too and so will Frumpkin.”

“Fine,” Caleb finally agreed. “We’ll sleep side by side, but no cuddling.”

“Fine, no cuddling,” Jester said spreading out the towels. She sat down on the futon. “Um, can you put out the candles?”

Caleb fell silent for a long moment. “It might be better if you did it.”

“But I’m already sitting,” Jester said.

Caleb sighed. “Fine, there’s two candles and two of us. We’ll both put one out.”

Jester nodded despite her nerves. “Okay.” Her voice sounded small and scared even to her. She got up and went to the closest candle, but the tealights were close to each other so it didn’t make too much of a difference. The tealight only flickered when she blew at it.

“Blowing at it is not going to do anything,” Caleb said. “The best way to put out a light is to pinch it out.” Caleb licked his fingers and moved like he was going to pinch it, but he instead just poked at the fire instead and played with his fingers over the flame.

“Caleb?” Jester asked. She couldn’t see his face well, but something about it made her uncomfortable.

“Oh, right,” Caleb said pulling his hand back. “You put out your light out first.”

Jester licked her fingers and quickly pinched at the fire. It took her two tries to get it out, but it didn’t hurt as much as she was afraid that it would. She hurried back to the futon and set her phone on the floor next to it. “Done.”

Caleb lingered at the light, but finally he put it out and room was pitch dark. Jester closed her eye tightly. She felt the futon dip slightly next to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jester said willing her voice to be light. “Here let’s cover up and just go to sleep.”

It took a little arranging to make their pile towels work as blankets and they were scratchy, but it was better than nothing. Jester feel Caleb pressed in next to her and how little heat he gave off. “It’s okay if you’re scared. It’s not the best situation,” Caleb said.

“I’m just not a big fan of the dark,” Jester said. “When I was a little girl there was a big earthquake in Nicodranas and all the lights went out and I was trapped and alone and it was super scary.”

“Well, you’re not alone now,” Caleb said. He leaned into her a little.

Jester smiled a little. “Thanks, Caleb. Can you keep talking? You know, until we go to sleep?”

“I can try. What should I talk about?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a story? Yeah, like a fairy tale.”

Caleb hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t really know any off the top of my head.”

“Then make one up,” Jester said.

“Alright.” Claeb took a breath. “Once upon a time there was a boy who was very sickly and his parents were very poor. So poor that they could not afford his medicine, so the,” he paused, “gods took the boy away from his loving parents. There was a wizard who was said to be good and wise and could make the boy healthy again, so the boy was given to him. But, the wizard was actually a cruel and wicked man, and while the boy grew healthier in body, his mind grew ill from the wizard’s cruelty.”

Jester pushed Caleb’s shoulder. “This story’s too sad.”

“It gets happier. I haven’t gotten to the princess yet,” Caleb said. “The sickly boy grew into a slightly less sickly young man. Then one day a princess was brought to the wizard’s home, and she was the tiniest princess.”

“Was she beautiful?”

The futon shifted as Caleb repositioned himself. “No, not really, but she was good and clever and helped the young man heal. He cared about her more than anything else in the world. They were best friends and closer than siblings. Soon after they met, the young man was sent away from the wizard’s.

“It should have been a happy occasion, but the young man grieved being away from the princess. He sunk into despair. But then he saw a vision of the princess and was reminded of all the good in the world. This set a fire in his heart, so he went to work. The young man disguised himself as a king and even managed to get himself a small kingdom. Finally, the princess was released from the wizard and the young man, now king, had earned the right to make the princess his heir.”

“And they lived happily ever after,” Jester said.

“Unfortunately that was not the case,” Caleb said. “The man was still very ill and had only a handful of years to live. But they were with the princess, so he was happy.”

Jester pouted. “That’s not a happy story.”

“Well, I did leave out the happiest part. One night, the man burned down the wizard’s house.” An odd joy filled Caleb’s voice.

“How’s that the happiest part?”

“Well, any story with a fire is automatically a happy story,” Caleb said.

Jester shook her head. “No, it’s not. This story’s kind of messed up.”

“Agree to disagree then,” Caleb said. “Maybe you’d prefer to hear about the last time Nott got her hand stuck in a vending machine.”

“Ooh, tell me more,” Jester giggled.

They both settled in more as Caleb told about how Nott thought she finally figured out how to best a vending machine. Soon Jester found herself nodding off and soon she was asleep.

********

Caleb woke up to to a jaunty tune about a king, and there was a heavy weight on his chest. At first he thought that Frumpkin was on his chest, but his cat was purring next to his head. All at once, Caleb remembered the events of the day before. He looked over to find Jester with her arm draped over him. The song continued to play next to the futon, but it suddenly started over.

He rolled away from Jester and checked the source of the song. It was Jester’s cellphone and it showed the name Molly on it. “Hello?” Caleb said. “Jester’s cell.”

“JESTER!” Caleb had to pull the phone away from his ear. “I just got your text.What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Ah, this isn’t Jester. This is her store neighbor Caleb Widogast. Do you want me to wake her up?” Caleb asked.

“Wake her up? Oh, ohhhhhh,” Molly said. There was something about that ‘oh’ that did not sit well with Caleb. “You don’t need to wake her for my sake. Let her sleep. I bet you two had an exhausting time last night.”

Caleb was already shaking Jester’s shoulder. “What are you talking about? I’m waking her up right now.”

“No worries. You two just snuggle up and enjoy the snow.”

“What, no, wait.” But the phone already hung up. Caleb checked the time; 4:24 AM. He laid back down since there was no point in being awake so early.

Jester made a mumbling sound and cuddled in closer to him. Caleb moved to get away from her, but she just wrapped an arm around him and pulled him towards her. He wiggled but could not break away from her embrace. It was warm though and soft, and Caleb couldn’t help but lean back into her and fall back asleep.

********

When Jester opened her eyes, the room was completely dark which weird since she always left a nightlight on. Also, her bed felt weird and so did her body pillow. The pillow moved, and she realized that it was not her pillow at all. “Since you’re awake, can you let go of me now?” Caleb asked.

Jester quickly unwrapped her arms from around him. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, you were asleep, and I didn’t wake up until a few minutes ago.” Caleb got up and stretched. “Also, it was warm.”

Jester crawled over to her phone and checked on it and, sure enough, the battery was completely dead. “Poo,” she mumbled to herself. Caleb also checked his, and light brightened the room a little.

“9:47,” Caleb said. He opened the door letting light into the back room. “Looks like the power company’s already here. No clue how long it will take them to clean everything up though. It’s freezing, but we can go to the front now.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Jester followed Caleb into the front, but she couldn’t help but feel an odd sort of lonely.

Caleb went through his medicines again, filled his hand with pills and popped them in his mouth followed by a swig of water. His hands were all mottled and covered with burns. He seemed to notice her stare. “Ah, I don’t have the best track record with fire.”

“Do you want your lighter back?” Jester asked holding it out.

He started to reach for it, but at the last moment held back. “You keep it actually. I don’t really need it anyways.” With one last stare at the lighter, Caleb looked away and put back on his tight black gloves.

“Caleb?” Jester asked. “Are you okay?”

Caleb looked a little taken aback. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. That was just a sad story last night and I don’t know.”

“I’m … fine,” Caleb said. “You don’t need to worry about me.” He scooped Frumpkin up off the floor and put him in his service vest.

“Oh, okay,” Jester said. “Cause, if you’re ever not okay, you can talk to me. If you want. I’m pretty good for talking to.” She sat on the counter watching the workers clear the power lines off of the street.

A sad smile appeared on Caleb’s face. “Who knows? I might take you up on that offer someday.” He tried to climb up on the counter too, but he had no luck.

“Need some help?”

Caleb blushed. “Sure, but don’t tell Nott.”

Jester plucked Caleb up and set him on the counter next to her. “There. I should probably be working on inventory, but-” She stared outside. There was an odd stillness to the world.

“Ja,” Caleb said.

They watched the street silently; Caleb occasionally checking his phone. After ten minutes, he jumped down and ran to the window. Something moved across the street in the book store. Caleb dialed a number in his phone, but it sounded like he was sent directly to voicemail. “Her phone’s dead.”

Across the street, Nott waved at them. Jester waved back. “Looks like she’s alright,” Jester said.

“Ja.” Caleb’s voice was full of relief.

“They should be finished with the powerlines soon.”

Caleb nodded his eyes not leaving Nott.

Jester stood next to Caleb. “You’ll get back to your princess soon enough.”

“Ja.”

One of the power workers knocked on the window and Jester opened the door.

“Hey there folks. Just wanted to let you know that the road’s clear now and you’re all free to go,” the worker said. “We respectfully apologize for the inconvenience.”

Caleb didn’t even wait for the worker to finish before running across the street. Nott threw the door open and Caleb held her close. It felt so intimate that Jester had to look away. The pair went back into their store and that strange loneliness came to Jester.

Jester went back into her tattoo shop and packed her stuff up. It just was not a day for inventory. An indignant meow interrupted her. She looked up to see that Frumpkin was still there next to one of Caleb’s pill bottles. “Frumpkin! You’re supposed to be with Caleb or he dies!” Grabbing the pill bottle, Jester picked up Frumpkin. “Let’s get you home.”

Outside was about as cold as the front of the store. The snow hadn’t started to melt yet, so it wasn’t too slippery yet. It was weird how quiet the street was. Jester didn’t dare say anything to disturb the silence. Caleb opened the door before she finished crossing the street. “Frumpkin.”

“And your pills,” Jester said shaking the bottle. “Figured you needed these.”

“I do.” He fell quiet. “I’m sorry about last night.”

Jester shrugged him off. “You kept me warm too.”

Nott poked her head out. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing!” Caleb said too loudly. “Anyways, you still need to finish your inventory, ja? Nott and I got no place to be.”

“Sure!” Jester said. She was a little surprised by how eager she was to spend more time with Caleb.

Caleb smiled shyly. It was almost like he was thinking the same. “We’ll be right over then. And one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“During your breaks, if you want, you should stop by the bookstore. It’d be nice to get to know our neighbors more and maybe talk.” A blush slowly spread over his face.

Jester grinned. “Can I come by any day? Everyday?”

“Maybe?” Caleb said. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to!” Jester felt her own face turning red. “Your store seems nice.”

“Yours too. Maybe I should get a tattoo there.”

Jester bounced at the possibilities. “I will make you the coolest tattoo ever.”

Caleb chuckled. “Well, I should gather Nott if we’re going to get your inventory done.”

“Oh right.” Jester watched him as he went back inside. It was the beginning of something; Jester knew it. The beginning of what, she didn’t know, but she was excited to see what would happen next.

___________________

Notes:

Deleted scene: Jester comes home to find Molly there with a cake. She tells Molly about what all happened and Molly hurriedly goes to the kitchen for a knife and scrapes off the cake "Congrats on the sex".

If I can come up with a better title, I will rename this. I hope you all enjoyed this.

#widojest #critical role fan fiction #pinkevilbob writes

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gentleknj · 6 years

Text

yellow lights | osh

YELLOW LIGHTS

✧ pairing: oh sehun x woc reader

✧ genre: fluff

✧ word count: 2.6k ✧ summary: amidst a lazy and spontaneous week long travel trip with your boyfriend, you seem to fall even deeper in love with him.

✧ warnings: maybe just a few swear words but other than that its smooth, overwhelming fluff ahead. some very soft inspiration from the song ‘yellow lights’ by harry hudson

a/n: hey, would you look at that? another snazzy (terrifyingly late) birthday post for one of my top favorite people to ever roam this planet @high-on-food ! it is now, officially, our ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF BEING FRIENDS. happy birthday, baby kai. even if i am terribly late and ended up posting this for our one year instead, i wanted it to be absolutely perfect for you. ive written and rewritten this a million and one times so i hope this time it was worth the wait. and although, i still feel like garbage for it so i want nothing in return for this ever, even if it had been on time ok. i love you, i hope you know. enjoy x

The sunlight peeked through the space between the two heavy curtains and illuminated the room in a warm yellow hue. Your eyes took a minute to adjust as you willed the urge to go back to sleep away. If you wanted to sleep in, you could’ve stayed home and done so. You were suddenly more aware of the fact that you were completely naked beneath the engulfing comforter. The warmth of Sehun’s bare side grazed yours as you stirred carefully in the bed, you smile upon seeing that he’s already awake.

“Good morning.” You blush, comforter being pulled up to cover the blush that spilled across your cheeks.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He hummed, fingers outstretching to move some of your messy hair from your face.

“How long have you been watching me for, creep?”

Your playful words made laughter rumble from deep in his chest.

“For many, many years, my precious.”

He always seemed to play along with you whenever you became overtly playful like you were this morning. His skin was warm against yours as he tugged your bare body to lay flush beside his own. Your heart never failed to flutter when he became needy and just wanted to be impossibly close to you. He always appeared cold to any passerby, his resting bitch face being the culprit no doubt. But there was something so beautiful about him that you were drawn to him from the first moment the two of you interned at the same law firm.

Before you could relive the moment, his hands moved up your bare sides to your face and cupped your cheeks. His palms were warm against your skin and goosebumps were left in the path his hands traveled which caused you both to smile. Gentle kisses were peppered to your face. Forehead, nose, eyes, lips, every millimeter of your face was touched with a soft kiss, leaving you to soak in a fit of giggles.

“You’re such a cheeseball.” You laugh, eyes scrunching closed in delight.

“A cheeseball?” His nose scrunched as he repeat the word, eyebrows knotting together.

“Oh,” You started, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek gently. “You know, like super cliche, but in the romantic way?”

He nodded in understanding, his toothy smile coming into view. Sometimes you forgot that you two didn’t grow up with the same slang or lingo, rather, and it reminded you how special it made you feel when you could include something new to his memory bank. With a sheepish smile, you climbed out of the bed and took the top comforter with you. A quick and playful glance over your shoulder at the sheet clad boy behind you made your heart flutter.

“What’s the plans for today?” You hum, eyes scanning your blanket clad figure as you pass the mirror, body bending so you can turn the shower on.

When Sehun didn’t reply, your head poked around the bathroom door frame with knit brows. The bed was vacant and soft clanking came from the kitchen within the penthouse. You had to admit, that this was an amazing airbnb for how cheap it was. Bare feet padded towards the kitchen as a shy smile made itself at home on your face.

His back was turned to you as he busied himself with what you were going to assume was a surprise breakfast, actually lunch if you took that it was past noon into consideration. Deciding it was better to let him surprise you, you quickly and quietly made your way back to the bathroom and showered.

When you emerged in a pair of cotton shorts and a borrowed tee of his, the scent of the food he’d prepared was overwhelming enough to make your mouth water. His brow was dripping with a comical single bead of sweat and he was placing a bottle of wine into a rather large picnic basket.

“Hi beautiful.” His smile was infectious, his feet carrying him to meet you halfway.

Arms encircled your waist and your hands rested at the nape of his neck. “Hi.” Your voice was small, eyes glued to his. “What’s this all for?”

“I’ve planned out our afternoon, it’s supposed to be a surprise.” A playful wink was dropped and the two of you burst into quiet laughter.

Small kisses were shared before he left you to occupy yourself while he showered and dressed. Your focus was solely on your phone when he emerged and he took advantage of the moment. Your skin looked soft, even from afar, face bare from any makeup and a smile split across your deep skin. Admittedly, he loved your skin. Always smooth and soft against his, not a blemish in sight and he hadn’t seen a color that didn’t compliment your complexion.

You could feel his eyes on you now, suddenly feeling exposed as you met his daydreaming gaze. Your eyes rolled heavenward when he playfully whistled at you, your nose scrunching as you laughed.

Hands entwined, the two of you navigated the now busy streets of Paris. Sehun had insisted that he led the way to the area he had picked out for the picnic but in all honesty, an hour of bumbling through alleyways and streets full of lively shops, you were sure he had gotten the two of you lost. Your eyes took in the small patches of white clouds above the buildings that surrounded you, trying to keep yourself from taking his face in your hands and begging him to allow you to find the place yourself. It was supposed to be a surprise so you couldn’t quite bring yourself to break so easy.

“There.” He spoke, drawing your attention to him with curious eyes.

His arm was stuck out to point down an alleyway behind you to what looked to be a walled off alleyway on the backside of an apartment building. Fighting the overwhelming urge to sigh aloud, you followed him with the large and increasingly heavy picnic basket in hand.

“Baby, if you’re lost, lets stop and ask one of the local shop owners. I’ll even stand outside while you ask so I don’t ruin the- Sehun.”

You cut yourself off by the view. The Seine river was rushing calmly below the wall the held you from joining the water itself. Your mouth hung agape for a moment and the orange haired man beside you relished in the fact he’d managed to stun you. Suddenly, you weren’t as hungry as you had grown to become from the long walk and the view had sucked most of your attention to itself. You were aware that Sehun had now moved to wrap his arm affectionately around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as you finally registered he was talking to you.

“Hmm?” He chuckled at your sudden attention on him.

“I said,” He stood to his full height, removing himself from you to lean against the low wall in front of you. “ ’Y/N, this a good spot to have our picnic?’ ” His toothy smile causing your heart to flutter against your ribs.

“Of course, I’m just- I’m in shock. This is absolutely beautiful.” Your gaze drop shyly down at the basket you now held in both hands, cheeks warming up. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“Anything for you.” He hummed, sitting to straddle the concrete wall and taking the basket from you gently.

After a moment of mentally urging your heart to stop buzzing into smaller versions of itself and running rampant through your veins, you mirrored the way he was sat on the other side of the basket. Your hair was secured back with a hair tie and you began opening the basket, curious as to what smelled so wonderful back at the airbnb. Fancy looking plastic containers held two servings of Coq au vin, the smaller ones containing a mix of cut fruit and two white containers from the bakery beneath the airbnb, held chocolate souffle. Two wine glasses had been wrapped in hand towles to ensure they weren’t broken on the venture there, and rested snugly against the side of the woven basket was an unopened bottle of wine.

You would have been lying if you told anyone that you didn’t fall even more in love with him right then and there. His deep brown eyes scanned over your face as you looked over your lunch, eyebrows raised as he awaited for your reaction.

“Hunnie, this is- this is-” Your voice grew in octaves with each word as you stumbled to find the words to say to him.

Usually, you never quite ran out of vocabulary. You were very expressive and it hadn’t been this hard to form words since your very first presentation in college. And that was saying something. You took his hands in yours instead, scooting the basket to press against both of your knees so you didn’t have to leave both of your arms awkwardly outstretched.

“I love you.” You finally spoke, hands squeezing his as you did.

“And I love you.” He replied, eyes turning into small crescents when he smiled.

You held eye contact for a moment before your stomach growled loud enough to let you both know it was definitely time to eat. The gentle hum of people’s passing conversations radiated from the next street over and down the alleyway. The sun was warm against your skin and the river carried enough of a sound that the need for words wasn’t quite there. Loving glances were stolen from both of you, quiet chuckles shared whenever you’d catch the other looking over.

“This is very cliche of us, you know that right? If I were to walk by us and be a stranger, I would immediately throw up from how cute this is.”

Your sudden comment had him nearly spitting out his sip of wine, both of you erupting into loud laughter at the situation. “Very.” He used a towel he had wrapped around the glasses to wipe the bit of wine from dripping fully off of his chin, eyes nearly disappearing and cheekbones becoming more prominent as he set his glass down. “When did we become such a movie couple?”

“I don’t know and I’m not entirely sure that I hate it.”

It was the truth. Love wasn’t always such an easy thing for you, you came off very friendly and affectionate to everyone. But there hadn’t been a true time where you felt this in love for this long. Of course, as a normal human being, you craved to one day find someone to be comfortable around that wasn’t just a friend. Having best friends was wonderful, sometimes magical really. There is just another kind of comfort and connection within a romantic relationship though. It’d been two years since the two of you went on your first date and you hadn’t even imagined that you’d be sitting in Paris, of all places, with someone as important to you as Sehun had become.

His hand ran through his messy orange locks, your eyes finally moving onto the scenery around you and no longer gluing themselves to his face as if you’d forget his features. He is breathtaking, always looking as if he’d just walked off of a model shoot. So it wasn’t like it was hard to stare at him, but the small part of you that would remain insecure (like any twenty something normal woman experiences) that was convinced you would need to memorize every inch of him. Of course, you knew you had nothing to worry about, but it was always food for thought whenever the two of you were apart.

“Babe?” He hummed, resting back against his palms as he looked up at the clouds.

“Yes?” You replied, crossing your legs and taking a long swig of the sweet wine in your glass.

“I want to move in with you.” He spoke bluntly, gaze still on the clouds.

His sudden confession made your head swim. It wouldn’t be much of a change from what the two of you were doing now anyways, you had some things at his apartment and spent a few nights of the week at his place as he did yours. The only difference between your situation now and moving in together properly was that his studio apartment wasn’t hardly large enough for the two of you and you lived with your best friend. It was just easier to split the rent. The idea of waking up next to him every day and falling asleep beside him each night without the worry of either of you needing to wake early to leave and get prepared at your actual apartments was very enticing. Your head swam with all of the ideas of how lovely it would be as you nodded vigorously.

“We’d have to find ourselves an apartment then. Why don’t we look later on your laptop? Maybe we can at least email a few potential places and set up appointments for after we return.”

His head snapped back down to look you in the eyes with his own blown wide. “Really?”

He hadn’t quite expected such a response from you. Optimism was laced in his confidence when he proposed the idea and yet he had somehow thought you would give him a reason that it wasn’t a sane idea. The smile on your face was enough confirmation for him, your hands busying themselves by packing the empty containers back into the basket to hide the excitement that made your hands tremble.

“Duh.” You began, scoffing lightheartedly. “We pretty much live together anyways, this would just solidify it and make it easier on us. Plus, I may just happen to like the idea of waking up next to this really dorky boyfriend of mine.”

“Dorky boyfriend? You have another one?” He feigned to be hurt and overdramatically held his hands to his chest. “How could you cheat on your handsome, perfect, wonderful boyfriend for a dork?” He gasped loudly, laughter tumbling freely from your lips.

“You’re seriously a fucking dork, this is a whole new level.”

Comfortable silence ensued your shared laughter. The basket was much lighter on the walk balk, your biceps thanking you at the dramatic change in weight. Neither of you were quite in a hurry to get back to the airbnb, heads turning to soak in the scenery as you walked with hooked arms.

It was very obvious you two were in love. Regardless of if you were both smiling or not, hands together or apart, the shop keeper of the small antique shop commenting to you about how handsome your husband was and how lucky you both were. You didn’t have the heart to correct her and that was partially because you hoped, with a full heart, that he would be the man you spent the rest of your life with.

another a/n: thank you so much for reading this, and i hope you all enjoyed. especially my sweet baby kai. feedback is always welcomed and encouraged. i can’t say it enough but thank you again.

masterlist

#sehun imagine #sehun #oh sehun #sehun exo #sehun one shot #sehun au #oh sehun imagine #exo imagine #exo one shot #HAPPY MOTHERFUCKIN ONE YEAR TO THE LOVE OF MY EXISTENCE I LOVE U MORE THAN ANYTHING #i hope this was good enoug #im so nervOUAS TO PSOT THIS FHDEBGEDN

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shintaroux · 6 years

Text

MAKE ME A BIRD

Seijurou didn’t know anything about falling until he crashed face-down into the dirt. He spat grass and mud out of his mouth. With his calloused hands, he touched the spine of the ground as if it would teach him its history; all he heard was a rumble of footsteps coming his way.

“Are you alright?” asked a rich baritone. Seijurou looked up at a boy with sorrowful eyes. His brows were knitted in distress. Seijurou still didn’t cast an eye on his own pitiful presence; he must’ve been a sad sight.

But this boy wasn’t in better shape himself.

Blood was trickling in thin lines down his nose, some of it staining his white shirt. His glasses were askew. On one of his bloodied fingers hung a grocery bag filled with medicine and bandages. There was a dark blue bruise under his eye.

Seijurou chuckled darkly.

“This is why humans are trouble. Why would you worry about others when you’re not doing well yourself…?”

“Point taken,” the boy said, still doing nothing to adjust his glasses. He looked up at the overcast sky, decorated here and there with a lonely star or two. “Where did you fall from?”

“Heaven.”

Seijurou was prepared to watch the boy leave after that claim but the boy only narrowed his eyes, like a hawk would upon descending on its prey. The curiosity sent gooseflesh down Seijurou’s tender skin which was when he noticed that he was naked. Wind howled around him and he shivered.

“Does that make you an angel?” The boy inquired.

Seijurou touched his pale flesh; it felt alive under his fingertips. “Not anymore.” The skin between his shoulder blades itched; something was still there, writhing underneath. Seijurou did his best to keep it inside.

The boy seemed to ponder for a moment, and then he turned around to walk away. Seijurou’s heart sank; at least that’s how he’d call the hollow sensation permeating his chest.

“Come with me,” the boy called, his broad back staring back at Seijurou. “I seem to have bought too many bandages…”

Seijurou got up on his thin, shaky legs and followed.

“Do you live alone?”

“No.”

Seijurou walked over the threshold of that boy’s home without asking for his name. Nobody in the house called his name either. Seijurou cautiously trailed behind him as they walked up the stairs. He had decades of observing experience to know what naivety brought to those who easily trusted their fellow man.

But Seijurou felt safe, even when his bare feet entered the boy’s spacious room. All furniture was next to the wall, leaving an open area in the middle of the room.

“Let’s clean your wound first,” the boy said and sat Seijurou at the chair next to the desk. Seijurou followed every move of the boy’s hand as he prepared a cotton swab. When he pressed it to Seijurou’s chest, he felt nothing. Dry blood was slowly disappearing. The boy swabbed for a while and then stopped. “There’s nothing.”

Seijurou smiled reassuringly and touched his now spotless skin. “It must’ve healed.”

The boy smacked his lips together. “Those doors lead to the bathroom. Go wash yourself. Do you know how?”

Seijurou raised his eyebrow in challenge. “So, you believe me now?”

“I’ll prepare some clothes for you,” the boy brushed past Seijurou’s question and went to search through his walk-in closet. “You can stay the night.”

“Why do you trust me?”

The boy smiled, there were shadows in the crooks of his teeth. “I saw you fall down.”

III

“What is your name?” Seijurou asked. He was tucked in a futon at the foot of the boy’s bed. The sleeves of the shirt he was given reached to his elbows, but it must’ve been a perfect fit for its owner. He listened to the darkness until the boy spoke.

“Midorima Shintarou.”

“Shintarou. It suits you.”

“First name basis already…?”

“Angels don’t have a family name. We are all one family so there’s no point. My name is Seijurou.”

Shintarou’s sheets rustled.

“Seijurou… What are you going to do from now on?”

Seijurou tried to make out Shintarou’s face in the dark but he kept the blinds closed shut; not a speck of moonlight entered his room. “First, I’ll sleep. Then I’ll wake. And I’ll let you ask the questions you’re dying to ask later.”

Seijurou had received no reply for so long that his eyelids began sinking over his eyes.

“Good night.”

Seijurou woke at the crack of dawn. Shintarou slept undisturbed as he slipped out of his covers and pulled the blinds open. The fall from Shintarou’s window wasn’t long but it rattled Seijurou’s his bones. He threaded on the pavement barefoot, his curiosity leading the way.

Most people passed him by. Some gave a scornful look upon seeing his feet. Some asked them where he bought his hair dye. Seijurou gave nothing away but he was well aware that the shade of his red hair wasn’t of this world; it glistened on the sun like feathers of a phoenix.

When the night fell, his stomach felt peckish. He hid in a shade and set his wings free. They were much smaller than before and perhaps a bit longer than his height. Seijurou surmised that they wouldn’t hold his weight much longer. So he took a running start, swung them once and ascended.

Nights were much colder and Shintarou’s cotton pants and shirt didn’t keep warmth close to his skin, but Seijurou kept flying until he dissolved into shivers and forcefully landed on a hill.

The hill was enclosed by a broken fence and but a single bench remained intact. He sat on it and went slack. Strength was leaving his body. When he was a whole angel, he could fly for days; his strong wings could take him anywhere above the clouds – but above the clouds only.

Seijurou cast his eyes on the city and its dying lights.

He wondered what he would’ve seen if he had been human; if any of this actually mattered.

Seijurou appeared on Shintarou’s window at midnight. The lights were on and the window was wide open. He wondered if it was for him.

“May I come in?” He asked, one of his legs dangling over the edge of the window.

“Do you think I just leave my window opened during the night?”

Seijurou retracted his wings as much as he could and gracefully landed into Shintarou’s room. It smelled like cleaning products today and his futon was put away somewhere. He noticed Shintarou was staring wide-eyed at him, his mouth agape.

“Oh, these?” Seijurou pointed to his battered wings. “I thought I could fly back here but… You can see what happened.”

His wings had multiple branches and thorns stuck among their feathers; some of them penetrated the skin, smearing blood all over his back. Shintarou’s shirt was completely destroyed.

“Bath. Now,” Shintarou said through his teeth.

Once in the bathroom, Shintarou stripped him of all clothes and helped him get into the tub. He filled it with just enough warm water to cover Seijurou’s dirty, frozen feet. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and hovered over his wings, insecure and fidgeting.

“You’ll have to pluck them one by one,” Seijurou instructed. He hugged his knees and bent his back lightly to provide better access to his wings.

“Will it hurt you?”

“Yes. But I’ll endure.”

Shintarou inhaled and exhaled a deep, shaky breath. Then he began patiently plucking away, wincing every time Seijurou did.

“I’m sorry for getting you dirty,” Seijurou murmured. He was still hugging his knees but only to make more room in the bath for Shintarou. He was sitting behind him; long legs sprawled on either side of Seijurou’s thighs.

“It’s alright.”

Seijurou managed to retract his wings once they were spotless. He felt Shintarou’s breath on the back of his damp neck and sensed that a question was coming.

“May I touch you?” Shintarou uttered in a voice as thin as cobwebs.

“You may.”

Seijurou had, naturally, never been touched by a human hand. He heard other angels whispering about it often, but they didn’t know either.

When Shintarou’s finger touched the tip of his spine, Seijurou realized that all stories were wrong. He threw his head back as a finger dragged over each vertebra, as if Shintarou were counting them. Once he was done with them, Shintarou’s palms blossomed on his ribs and trailed north to his nipples. It tickled, where Shintarou touched them, but it turned into a different sensation all together when Shintarou pressed his lips to the nape of his neck.

Seijurou whimpered; it was an involuntary whimper that sounded foreign even to his own ears.

Shintarou withdrew his hand, as if burned by the sound. “Why did you fall?” Shintarou inquired. Seijurou was displeased at the loss of contact. He petulantly leaned back into Shintarou’s chest and looked up.

“Life is meaningless if it stretches endlessly. There’s nothing to gain, nothing to lose. There’s no absolution because there’s no sin. Boring, boring, boring…” Seijuro paused to twirl a strand of his wet hair between his fingers. “The moment an angel thinks that, it’s already over for him.”

Shintarou said nothing after that so Seijurou took the liberty of leading his hands back to his chest. “You may continue.”

“I feel bad for doing this,” Shintarou admitted. His fingers dug into Seijurou’s side and remained still.

“Why? I want you to. If anyone should be feeling bad, it’s me. I’m merely using you to sate my curiosity.”

“I am curious too, you know.”

Seijurou chuckled. “All the more reason you should continue.”

So Shintarou did.

VII

Seijurou woke with ash in his mouth. He spat it to his side thinking that he must’ve been dreaming. Shintarou’s concerned, drowsy face told him otherwise.

“It happens,” he explained. It never happened. But Seijurou knew what it meant. He pretended to go back to sleep but his back itched and his throat was dry. He ate the eggs that Shintarou made for breakfast, even though he wasn’t feeling hungry, and truly pretended as if it merely ‘happenned’.

“Shintarou, you never told me why you were beaten that night we met.”

“I expressed my honest opinion and somebody didn’t like it.”

“Sounds like our troubles aren’t all that different.”

“That might just be so.”

VIII

In the afternoon, Seijurou found a board of shogi underneath Shintarou’s bed.

“May we play?” Seijurou asked, his finger scraping the sides of the board. It was worn and well-used.

“Do you know how to?”

“I have a good grasp of the rules. I’ve often watched professional shogi matches.”

Shintarou chuckled, shyly his mouth with the back of his hand. “I almost feel bad for beating a newbie.”

Seijurou won all three shogi games.

Shintarou’s eyebrow seemed to be raised in disbelief for good. “Are you sure this is the first time you’ve played? It must be your angel mojo…”

“I assure you that I would’ve won even if I were completely human.”

“Such confidence. I demand a rematch!”

Seijurou lifted a shogi piece off the board but it slipped out of his fingers; they were growing number by an hour, sense of touch slowly slipping away. He used both his hands to successfully lift the piece onto its designated place.

“Rematch it is.”

That evening, Seijurou spat out a mouthful of ash. The taste was bitter in his mouth and it took him three glasses of water to wash it off.

“Are you sure this just happens?” Shintarou asked; he was pulling at Seijurou’s arm, intent on getting information.

Seijurou tucked his hair behind his ear and dodged: “There’s a place I want to go tonight. Would you take me?” The itch in his back was unbearable and he was losing feeling in his legs; it was like being dismembered by a cruel puppeteer.

Shintarou scoffed. “You’re not telling me something.”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

“Give me a piggyback ride, Shintarou,” Seijurou proposed, arms outstretched in front of him as far he could make it. Shintarou fixed his glasses and, without a moment’s hesitation, bent his knees so Seijurou could climb on his back. He hugged Shintarou’s neck as if they were in a vast ocean and he couldn’t swim.

“Lead the way.”

Streets seemed like a giant maze but Seijurou confidently navigated through the streets. He hummed his favourite song to chase the silence away.

The spot at the top of the hill was as vacant as a day ago. Shintarou put Seijurou down on the bench. He took a few moments to catch his breath before he sat down as well.

The city unfolding before him was static, silent.

“Do you know why angels fall?”

Shintarou shook his head.

“It’s punishment. Like I’ve said, your only betrayal is the desire to be like humans. We are exiled to get that chance.”

Shintarou all but snarled. “So you die for it? You are dying, right?”

“Correct. Our bodies aren’t compatible with this world,” Seijurou smiled at this cruellest irony; it smiled back. “We merely get a sample, a taste of your life. And then we perish.”

“That seems unnecessarily cruel.”

“It is the way it is. We all know it the moment we think about it. In all honestly, I thought I’d just die when I fell. But I was lucky. You found me.”

Shintarou might’ve smiled but Seijurou couldn’t tell. The sky was a starless tent.

“Are you sad, Shintarou?”

“A little. In all honesty, I don’t think the reality of your existence have hit me yet.”

“I see, that’s reasonable. Our time together was short,” Seijurou searched for Shintarou’s hand in the dark. When he found it, slack on the bench, he took it in his own. “Hold my hand until the morning.”

Shintarou squeezed his hand. The grip was strong enough for Seijurou to be able feel it. Ash slid out of his mouth in short coughs; his knees were feather-light.

“Who would’ve thought that ‘remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return’ was quite literal.”

Shintarou didn’t laugh.

He held Seijurou’s hand until it crumbled into his hand just as the first rays of sun spilled over the horizon. He closed his fist tightly and walked to the edge of the hill. He opened his palm and let the angel fly one last time.

XII

There was a little hill that paid attention to. It was in fact so rarely attended to that nobody noticed a small grave with no body underneath, just a small plate with a single sentence engraved:

Whoever said best things don’t just fall from the sky has obviously never met an angel.

#midoaka #knb

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therealestatesparkblog · 5 years

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6 Types of Rental Property Add-Ons (& a Look at Whether They’re Worth It)

Generally speaking, adding additional living space to a property is not advisable unless its in a particularly high-end neighborhood. But as with anything, there are exceptions to this rule. Certain homes naturally lend themselves to easy additions, such as bedrooms or bathrooms, or present opportunities to convert already existing space into living space. Consider the following ways to not only improve your property but also add value to your investment. Bedroom or Bathroom Addition Sometimes you dont even need to add any square footage to a home in order to create an extra bedroom or bathroomeither of which can substantially increase the value of a property. (This is especially true if the house only has two bedrooms or one bathroom.) A third bedroom is advantageous to property owners because most families who are looking to move wont settle for any fewer. Families typically intend to stay in place longer than single tenants; therefore, they can be easily turned off by what they consider inadequate space. In certain situations, its even worthwhile to add a fourth bedroomespecially if the addition is easy to do. But it is rarely beneficial for homeowners to add a fifth. Oftentimes, especially with older homes, floor plans are far less than optimal (think large hallways and other poorly utilized space). Wasted square footage can present an opportunity to throw up a few walls, build a closet and install a door. Boom! Youve got another bedroom. As an alternative, maybe you could cut one large bedroom into twobut be careful with this. Heads of households (like parents) tend to like bigger master bedrooms, so avoid dividing one room into two if its the only large bedroom in the home.

Related: 7 Creative Ways to Add BRs, BAs & Other Value-Adds to Your Rental [With Pics!] Heres a final note on bedrooms: they must be at least 10 feet by 10 feet. They also arent legally deemed a bedroom if: they dont have a window to the exterior;dont have a closet; orare solely accessible by going through another bedroom. Bathroom additions dont require as much space, but they are more expensive to build. Remember, you will have to run plumbing, so the closer your new bathroom is to the main stack, the better. If there is a basement (or at least an easily accessible crawlspace), this can make it a lot easier to install new plumbing. Houses that are built on a slab foundation, however, are pretty much a lost cause. To add an extra bath would require cutting into the concrete to lay the plumbing, which is (needless to say) quite expensive. If a floor plan allows for it, there are several instances when adding a bathroom is a good idea. One key opportunity is when you are dealing with a large housesay, approximately 1,500 square feet or bigger. When possible, the extra bathroom should be connected to the master bedroom. (Again, parents love privacy.) As a space-saving option, a shower stall can be installed instead of a bathtub. And if there isnt enough square footage to add a full bathroom, a half bathroom (just a toilet and vanity without a bathtub) is still a significant improvement. Another instance in which you should try to add a half bath is when youre dealing with a large, multistory home with no bathroom on the first floor. Nobody wants to go all the way upstairs to use the restroom, and most people wouldnt like to send guests up there either. If you can squeeze in a half bath on the main level, its usually worth it to do so. That being said, preferably a house will have a bathroom on every floor. Worst case scenario would be a multistory property with all of the bedrooms upstairs and the only bathroom downstairs. Having to go down a flight of stairs every time nature calls in the middle of the night is not only less than ideal, but also dangerous. Theres no size requirements with regard to bathrooms, but they should be big enough for people to comfortably do anything they might need to get done in one. Unfortunately, bedroom and bathroom additions are not always practical or financially feasible. Whether or not the property is begging for one or the other (or both!) should factor into your decision to purchase the property in the first place. Related: 12 Creative Ways to Add Major Value to Apartment Buildings Garage Conversions More often than not, garage conversions arent worth it. Certain situations, however, make sense. First of all, recognize that by converting the garage into, say, a bedroom, you are quite obviously losing a garage in the process. Secondly, the garage will probably need to be insulated. And thirdly, it can be tough to match a homes siding or paint color if the conversion requires you remove the garage door. (For that reason, garage conversions are easiest when you also intend to update the homes exterior.) Garages are also often built on slabseven when the rest of the house is built on a crawlspace foundation or basement. Sometimes those slabs have settled, creating an uneven surface, which can make remodeling that much more difficult. Regardless, there are times when it does make sense to pull the trigger on a conversion. The most obvious instance is when you have a relatively small house (like a two-bedroom, 800-square-foot home) with a two-car garage. Its unlikely tenants need both garage bays, so using half the garage space to create a master bedroom and bathroom could add a lot of value while also retaining one garage spot. In some lower-end areas, I have seen investors carve out most of the garage to build an additional bedroom, while leaving the very front of the garage as basically a small storage locker. The purpose behind this? Section 8 pays more for additional bedrooms. So, these investors increase their income even if it makes the house feel a bit awkward.

Basement Conversions Whereas garage conversions are usually a bad idea, basement conversions are almost always a bad idea. I encountered countless half-finished basements when exploring properties shortly after the crash of 2008. Apparently, an unfathomable number of people thought it would be a good idea to refinance their house in order to finish their basement. Needless to say, they chose unwisely. Basement conversions can have a variety of problems. For one, many appraisals dont consider any finished space below grade (underground) to be countable square footage. Ive witnessed appraisers not count bathrooms when they were part of a finished basement. This means that the upward adjustment post-conversion will be rather small even though the cost can be substantial. But a bigger problem is water; a lot of basements leak. Most are vulnearble when there is a torrential downpour. And it can be an essentially endless and fruitless battle to prevent this from happening. Mold can form when water gets into a basement. Then, the property owner has to tear out the affected drywall and reinstall it, assuming theyve actually been able to seal the source of the leak. Its another metric of which Ive lost track. I cant count the number of finished basements Ive seen that are missing the bottom foot or two of drywall because of water damage. Rental properties with finished basements can introduce further problems. If a tenant has property in the basement and its destroyed by water issues, well, theyre not going to be particularly happy with you! Yet, there are times when basement conversion do make sense. The first instance occurs when additional bedrooms are at an extreme premium. The most obvious example of this isstudent housing, which rents out by the bedroom in hot markets. My dad is the master of finding ways to carve out bedrooms for his student rentalshe fills every nook and cranny. These extra bedrooms are often built in basements. Another instance when it makes sense to convert a basement is within a house where you can do a cheap finish. Best case scenario are homes with walk-out basements. With this type of property, only one side of the basement is underground (maybe due to the fact the house is on a hill). With these, I recommend simply painting all the walls white and the floor gray with an oil-based paint (so it wont scuff when people walk on it). Perhaps add a few lights, too. Voila! This finishes the basementsort ofand can make the space more appealing to renters, buyers, and appraisers. The best part is its cheap! Attic Conversions Attic conversions are rarely possible, but can make sense in certain circumstances. There are three major conditions that need to be met for an attic addition to work: The stairs to the attic need to be in good shape and not overly steep.The ceilings need to be tall enough.The area must be properly ventilated. Attics can get really hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Without an additional attic on top of your attic conversion, there wont be much insulation. So, you need to make sure the space can be heated and cooled sufficiently. Oftentimes, even if you have central air, you will want to provide an additional window unit. Steep stairs can turnoff buyers and renters, as well. The International Residential Code recommends that for a rise of 7.75 inches (vertical part), there should be a run (horizontal part) of 10 inches. Older homes may be grandfathered in with a steeper rise, but it shouldnt be too much steeper than that. Building codes vary by the region, but most require at least a seven foot ceiling. The 1994 Uniform Building Code requires a ceiling height of at least seven feet, six inches. Check the building requirements in your municipality, but anything less than that most likely cannot technically be considered living space. Regardless, very few people would want to have a bedroom with ceilings lower than that anyways. If your property meets all of these criteria and there is substantial value to gain by adding more living space, then (and only then) should you consider converting your attic. Enclosing a Porch Rarely is it a good idea to enclose a front porch in order to add on to a house. Back patios, however, can be a different story. It sometimes makes sense to enclose, insulate, ventilate, and convert back patios into an additional bedroom or living space. There are a few questions to ask yourself before embarking down this path. First things first: does the house needs extra living space to begin with? Next, keep in mind that people really like having direct access to their backyard. So, if you are planning to turn the porch into a bedroom, make sure theres another door to the backyard. (At the very least, ensure you can add a new one elsewhere.) Finally, just like with garage conversions, acknowledge that youre losing something when you enclose a porch. People like outdoor spaces, especially in cities with pleasant climates. Weigh the pros and cons before making the plunge. Is the cost of converting the porch actually worth the trade-off? Building an Addition Building an addition is somewhat like building a small house that attaches to an existing one. Maybe the foundation is already there, but its rare. Youll likely be starting from scratch. Anything like this requires permits. (Full transparency, much of the above does, as well, depending on the municipality). For this reason, adding an addition is rarely worth it unless property is located in a high-end area. Conclusion Adding additional bedrooms and converting non-livable space into livable space can be a huge value-add to real estate. But its not without costs, both financially and to the property itself. There are times when it makes absolute sense to pull the trigger, and others when it does not. This should provide a helpful guide for making such decisions.

When was a time you had to make a decision on value-adds for your properties? Comment below! https://www.biggerpockets.com/renewsblog/rental-property-add-ons

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